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He was an imaginative young man. A glance down the passage—to see that Roding was not lurking?—and her face came back to Gerald, triumph in her eyes. I meant mischief. "So, you young fool, I have found you!" she said, harshly. I wrenched this off, and in an envelope addressed to me in faded ink, I found the locket and the pearls. But now that this bar is removed, I trust I may, without impropriety, urge it. But in its stead—toward morning—there appeared another idea which appealed to him as sublime, appealed to the primitive conscience, to his artistic sense of the drama, to the poet and the novelist in him.
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