The three clerks fought for the only window, and saw her whisked into a hansom. And like that gospel it meant something, something different from its phrases, something elusive, and yet something that in spite of the superficial incoherence of its phrasing, was largely essentially true. A glance down the passage—to see that Roding was not lurking?—and her face came back to Gerald, triumph in her eyes. “I confess it. ’ ‘You traitor, Gerald,’ laughed Lucilla, her yellow curls bouncing under a huge straw bonnet all over flowers. Kneebone made his appearance. “Why, among other things, did I put my knuckles in his neck—deliberately to hurt him?” She tried to sound the humorous note.
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