CHAPTER IX. ’ ‘I am not the imbecile you take me for,’ Gerald said with dangerous calm. Before his departure, he gave his assistant a glove. . “I saw—they knocked off your fetters yesterday. Even the children jeer. At the open door stood a young man in a rich garb with a mask on his face, who was encouraging the mob by words and gestures. It was, in fact, a group of interests quite unlike any other group, peculiar and special, and one to be thoroughly ashamed of. ‘So yours is the rattling tongue, is it, young madam?’ ‘I should say so. " "Rely on me," rejoined Kneebone.
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