His gaze drawn, Gerald watched him dip to pick up a crushed square of white linen and a starched object that resembled a helmet. "I imagine I must have a hundred rolls—all the old fellows. Odd, but he had never thought of the beach until this girl (who looked as if she had stepped out of the family album) referred to it with a familiarity which was as astonishing as it was profoundly sad. And she felt that if she went home it was imperative to pay. “You heard no pistol-shot?” “None. Besides, it did not fit her well, which was why the loose wimple had slipped. ‘As to Gérard, I do not know why he does this.
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