CHAPTER VI. If only Gerald would come. She never questioned the motives of the characters; she had neither the ability nor the conceit for that; but she could and often did correct his lapses in colour. ‘Alors, pig!’ she cried and lunged in quarte. She had a better voice than I, and the rest I suppose is only a trick. The kindly American consul-general had himself taken her to the bank, where her banknotes had been exchanged for a letter of credit, and had thoroughly advised her. Anything else that was said she now regarded only as an aspect of or diversion from that. Now he would take her away from the house before killing her, and no one would find her body at all. Here he halted; and, looking upwards, read, at the foot of an immense sign-board, displaying a gaudily-painted angel with expanded pinions and an olive-branch, not the name he expected to find, but that of WILLIAM KNEEBONE, WOOLLENDRAPER.
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