‘Oh, Lord,’ muttered Gerald, going instantly to her aid. He yelled but he had no breath to support his own voice. Shame and electricity coursed through her veins, flowing directly from him in a flash flood. At any rate, here I am, and here I shall be, twenty thousand feet above all your poison-reeking cities, up where God’s wind comes fresh from heaven, very near indeed to the untrodden snows. ’ And with that he went off to the City, stern and silent, leaving his bacon on his plate—a great slice of bacon hardly touched. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by U.
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