‘That’s what started the fracas,’ Gerald admitted ruefully, nursing his injured hand as he recalled it. For just as though a vague likeness is sometimes borne swiftly in upon one, so a vague dissimilarity between the face on the poster and the heroine of his thoughts had slowly crept into his consciousness. It penetrated the skin; benumbed the flesh; paralysed the faculties. “What’s wrong?” He asked as she shifted awkwardly. 104 < 14 > THE UNTIMELY DEMISE OF JOSEPH R. “You must have heard—have you—oh, tell me, won’t you?” she begged.
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