He drew a little breath of relief. ‘Well, I can see you won’t let it alone, so what do you propose to do about the wench?’ ‘I’ll die before I let it alone,’ Gerald vowed. Arrived at Westbourne-Green—then nothing more than a common covered with gorse and furzebushes, and boasting only a couple of cottages and an alehouse—he perceived through the hedges the objects of his search slowly ascending the gentle hill that rises from KensallGreen. . A vast indifference settled down upon him. He did not look at her directly, though she fantasized that she could 141 feel his stares from the back of the class on occasion. “Oh, theories! Being in love is a fact. "Can't!" repeated his mother. CHAPTER VIII.
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