"Your sympathy is being wasted. Oh! that Mr. “Don’t you know, child, that this is torture for me? What in God’s name more can you have to tell me?” Her face had become almost like a marble image. She could smell his cologne underneath his collar, or perhaps his aftershave. “You are a dear,” she exclaimed affectionately. ’ ‘Indeed?’ said Gerald, surprised. Hugging them, they crept stealthily around the house, Major Alderley leading, and wasting—so his captain acidly commented—a deal of time checking the windows and doors. While this was taking place, another and more serious interruption occurred. She hated tricking Shari, whose joy for life was the only thing that made her naive enough to fall for laced iced tea or hot cocoa, depending on the season.
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