What’s the name of the happy man?” Gwen owned to “Fortescue. In his muscular pudgy hand was a photograph, frayed at the corners, soiled from the contact of many hands: the portrait of a youth of eighteen. 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. ‘I broke in. . “I’m a big boy, you know. "There!" she cried, laughing, "that'll teach you to lay hands upon me again. I said as how I’d tell Mr Jarvis as he wanted to take you away. The picture in her mind altered and she saw again the way Gerald had looked with consternation upon the bruises he had inflicted on her wrist.
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