It was a moment or two before Gerald, opening his eyes on the girl’s astounded expression, recollected himself sufficiently to pull out of the extraordinary impact she’d had on him. He turned the water off and handed her a towel. I must stay a minute longer, if only to see you smile. You are an artist by the Divine right of birth, but whatever form of expression may come to you at some time it will not be painting. As the Wastrel rushed, Spurlock sidestepped, swept the ball into his hand, set himself and threw it. The face that looked down upon Ann Veronica was full of amiable intention. And lunged once more. The last thing that she remembered was her eyes crossing as she tried to focus upon the crunch of leaves as she lay heaving upon them, dampening them further with the outpouring of her sweat as it leaked from her clothing.
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