CHAPTER IV The tourists returned to the Sha-mien at four o'clock. It seemed intolerable that she should go home and admit herself beaten. ‘No, my poor guardian,’ Gerald mocked. She withdrew her head with a little moan, and resumed her flight. She winced when first she heard the preparation-room door open and Capes came down the laboratory; but when at last he reached her she was self-possessed. . . ’ ‘But he gives them to me. K-kimble, sir,’ stammered the lad. She leaned back in her chair. ‘Will you let be?’ Instead she grasped his hand tighter. Gerald realised Lucy had taken the hint, for she dragged her betrothed towards the door. The poet's appearance altogether was highly prepossessing.
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