Thank God that crisis was over. She felt almost fond of him now, almost
in love with him.
'Ah, Gerald,' she laughed, caressively, teasingly, 'Ah, what a fine
game you played with the Professor's daughter--didn't you now?'
'What game?' he asked, looking round.
'ISN'T she in love with you--oh DEAR, isn't she in love with you!' said
Gudrun, in her gayest, most attractive mood.
'I shouldn't think so,' he said.
'Shouldn't think so!' she teased. 'Why the poor girl is lying at this
moment overwhelmed, dying with love for you. She thinks you're
WONDERFUL--oh marvellous, beyond what man has ever been. REALLY, isn't
it funny?'
'Why funny, what is funny?' he asked.
'Why to see you working it on her,' she said, with a half reproach that
confused the male conceit in him. 'Really Gerald, the poor girl--!'
'I did nothing to her,' he said.
'Oh, it was too shameful, the way you simply swept her off her feet.'
'That was Schuhplatteln,' he replied, with a bright grin.
'Ha--ha--ha!' laughed Gudrun.
Pages:
837
838
839
840
841
842
843
844
845
846
847
848
849
850
851
852
853
854
855
856
857
858
859
860
861