"While I live you are safe," rejoined Trenchard; "after my death I can answer for nothing. ’ ‘Oh, don’t I? What do you have under all those petticoats, a holster?’ ‘But yes, and they are empty. If I told you the facts, I expect, since you are in love with me, you’d explain the whole business as being very fine and honorable for me—the Higher Morality, or something of that sort. “I have never yet met a man whose intellect I could respect. ‘What the devil for?’ ‘Messenger,’ Gerald explained. His hunger satisfied, his spirits began to revive, and with this change of mood all his natural audacity returned. A fortnight passed, then a month. But your role would have been to go about saying, ‘I beg your pardon’ in a reproving tone to things you understood quite well in your heart and saw no harm in.
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