To Gerald’s eye, the refugees therefore presented a rather forlorn little group, almost huddling together and chattering in low tones in their own tongue. “I heard the clock strike as I crossed the square,” she answered. And next morning she attired herself with especial care and neatness, found his address in the Directory at a post-office, and went to him. “My father’s sisters used once to live in the old manor house. Well, I'd no idea," she continued, pursuing her ruminations as she left the room, "that people of quality laughed so. CHAPTER XXIII. They’ve just got to keep white.
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