Next instant, Gerald felt his wrist seized in an iron grip. "Hell's curses!" muttered Jonathan between his teeth; "that fool will ruin all. I am yours for the making over. Then light footsteps became audible, descending the staircase with a certain deliberation and a faint rustle of skirts. He was really very proud of her, and extraordinarily angry and resentful at the innocent and audacious selfreliance that seemed to intimate her sense of absolute independence of him, her absolute security without him. God bless you, Auntie! I'll go into the mills and make pulp with my bare hands, if you want me to. Such freedoms from such people were not to be endured.
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