Then she had a baby and became as old as any really grown-up person, or older, and very dull. And for many years, that was the way it was. "But you mustn't indulge these gloomy thoughts. Come. Whatever he did, she was bound to scream. Had she not seen them go forth with tracts in their pockets and grins in their beards? To set fire to his imagination, to sting his sense of chivalry into being, to awaken his manhood, she must present some irresistible project. Sir Rowland then fell. Elegant, a little scornful, she leaned slightly against the back of a chair and looked him steadily in the eyes. "The blood that has been spilt is that of his wife. ‘But who was he, Gerald?’ ‘A damned condottiere,’ exploded Gerald, forgetting his company. "She in intensely impressionable and romantic, and probably she is giving the chap qualities he doesn't possess. At the bottom of the trunk was a large manila envelope, unmarked. "A vow," she answered,—"a vow to my dead husband.
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