My poor brain is so mixed, dear, I hardly know what I am saying. ’ Was there a careful note in her voice? Gerald gave no sign, keeping his own tone light. Do you know the story of Orpheus? He was a musician who followed his damned wife into Hell to bring her back? He was one of us, I believe. I cut off her limbs so that she would not escape. Her eyes were fixed upon the ground, the pink colour coming and going in her cheeks was very delicate and girlish. I took the money myself, and ought to know. Now you haven’t the ghost of one—not if you play the game fair. He tries hard to conceal it, but he cannot.
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