In the old days he had been something of an athlete—a runner, an oarsman, and a crack at tennis. She ran away after she had divined that Gianfrancesco had remarried. No wonder that Trenchard, as he gazed at this fearful being, should have some misgivings cross him. Here we go, thought Gerald. To vault over the pews was the work of a moment; and having gained the entry leading to the Red Room he passed through the first door; his progress being only impeded by the pile of broken stones, which he himself had raised. It was in fact the first embrace of motherhood she had ever known.
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