“Is that all you have to say?” Michelle challenged her. She was vehemently impatient—she did not clearly know for what—to do, to be, to experience. There was a stain of wine upon her dress. “You must have heard—have you—oh, tell me, won’t you?” she begged. Through all this flutter of novelty there came and went a solicitous, preoccupied, almost depressed figure. And who knew if the men that Gerald had posted there would follow her to protect her somewhere else? In truth, where were these soldiers? She could not see them, although she assiduously searched the mist-shrouded square from the vantage point of the bay window in the large first floor room which had become her headquarters.
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