’ Gerald frowned. ‘This is not a place for a man. \" He panted, wiping sweat off of his brow with a towel. We were going at a mad pace. Yeah, I’m thirty-seven. Ann Veronica blushed. As he pocketed it, her open palm reached out and slapped his cheek. The solemn strokes were immediately answered by a multitude of chimes, sounding across the Thames, amongst which the deep note of Saint Paul's was plainly distinguishable. Don’t imagine that. ’ ‘But what have I done?’ protested Gerald innocently.
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