Beyond the hatch, an angle, formed by a projection in the wall of some three or four feet, served to hide a door conducting to the interior of the prison. They all left the room. She met the keen grey eyes of a clean-shaven man, between forty and fifty, quietly dressed in professional attire. 133 “TRY ME!” He yelled, his voice booming into the cacophony beyond the walls. “The fact of it is, and this absurd project of yours only brings it to a head, you have begun to get hold of some very queer ideas about what a young lady in your position may or may not venture to do. ‘Let go!’ ‘Do you take me for a fool?’ Gerald demanded. Her roving eagerness was at all times shaded with shyness, reserve, repression. Because here was the haven for which she had been blindly groping: the positive abolition of all her father's rights in her—the right to drag her back. “I should like you to come here,” she said.
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