Next to the executioner stood his wife—the former Mrs. She knew Martha would not ask anything that she did not wish to know. He had removed his silk hat, and now sat looking at Ann Veronica over an untouched cup of tea; he sat gloating upon her, trying to catch her eye. Still, I am curious. For was not Gerald a gentleman? An Englishman, whose services any female—excluding her own self so idiote— would be very happy to have. Her aunt did not object to capital punishment or war, or the industrial system or casual wards, or flogging of criminals or the Congo Free State, because none of these things really got hold of her imagination; but she did object, she did not like, she could not bear to think of people not having and enjoying their meals. No sterner head was ever beheld beneath the cowl of a monk, or the bonnet of an inquisitor. In no way could he be said to contribute to the gaiety of the little party. Here were the passionate lovers! What their past had been he neither cared nor craved to know.
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