The image in the glass was not clear, for the light was not bright enough to see properly, but the shadows of her riding habit and the hat with its waving plumes framed a countenance that gazed serenely back at her out of long-lashed blue eyes. Bah. Gerald raised his cockaded hat, and smiled. 265 The madness crept around her like smoke under a door. ‘You are Mrs Ibstock, I think,’ she said eagerly. As this gentleman was going away, he said to Jack in a jesting manner, 'that he should be glad to see him to-night at supper. “It couldn’t be.
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