"A shark!" exclaimed Alice, her inexperience taking the words literally—"a shark in the street!" Frances Chenevix laughed.
"One with sharp eyes and nimble feet, Alice, speeding after me with a polite invitation from one of the law lords. He is watching outside now."
"How shall you get away?" wondered Frances.
"If the Bashaw comes home before twelve, Thomas must dispose of me somewhere in the lower regions: Sunday is a free day for us, thank goodness. So please to make the most of me, both of you, for it is the last time you will have the privilege. By the way, Fanny, will you do me a favour? There used to be a little book of mine in the glass book-case in the library; my name in it, and a mottled cover: I wish you would go and find it for me."
Lady Frances left the room with alacrity. Gerard immediately bent over Alice, and his tone changed.
"I have sent her away on purpose. She'll be half-an-hour rummaging, for I have not seen the book there for ages. Alice, one word before we part. You must know that it was for your sake I refused the marriage proposed to me by my uncle: you will not let me go into banishment without a hope; a promise of your love to lighten it."
"Oh, Gerard," she eagerly said, "I am so glad you have spoken: I almost think I must have spoken myself, if you had not. Just look at me?"
"I am looking at you," he fondly answered.
"Then look at my hectic face; my constantly tired limbs; my sickly hands: do they not plainly tell you that the topics you would speak of must be barred topics to me?"
"Why should they be? You will get stronger."