It seemed intolerable that she should go home and admit herself beaten. Lord, I am sixty. Gerald raised a questioning eyebrow. All that he had sown that afternoon with such infinite care was as nothing compared to this seed, cast without forethought. But after all, what did it matter whether she had secrets or not? To him she was not a woman but a symbol; and one did not investigate the antecedents of symbols. But—it’s one of the things I’ve just been thinking over. "Mutual concessions," she added. ‘You little fool! I’m a trained soldier with ten years experience at my back.
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