“I can’t imagine, Miss Pellissier,” Brendon said, leaning towards her, “whatever made you think of coming to stay if only for a week at a Montague Street boarding-house. The procession had just got into line of march, when a dreadful groan, mixed with yells, hootings, and execrations, was heard. Never before had any human being kissed her lips. After an hour of waiting, she slammed her bedroom door and he returned to his basement. ‘Why does this person say you are mad?’ ‘Because I am risking having my head blown off,’ Gerald answered cheerfully.
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