‘Do please continue,’ Gerald begged, deceptively docile. Stanley. “Garçon,” he said, “will you ask the gentleman at the next table if he will do me the honour of taking a glass of wine with me. “Agreed,” he said with queer exaltation, and his grip tightened on her hand. It seemed that within an instant the Pestilence struck, and she begged me on her deathbed to shelter you and her grandson for the rest of your lives, as she could see that even though I was a ‘demon fiend’ and ‘minor devil’ that I loved you.
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