’ Chapter Five ‘Now then, young Jack,’ Gerald said, turning to the lad, who was sitting in the place lately vacated by his self-appointed mistress, but in a state of far less relaxation. The metrical irregularity is intentional, because I want, as it were, to put you apart: to change the lilt and the mood altogether when I speak of you. ’ ‘Nothing of the sort,’ Gerald said calmly, sipping at his burgundy. Then, mysteriously, he no longer smelled or tasted it. He does not look the criminal. But you must promise me not to go near that abandoned hussy at Willesden. The door into the passage offered itself with an irresistible invitation—the one alternative to a public, inexplicable passion of weeping. Not that there had ever been any hope of that. “Get me some brandy and my bag.
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