And pouring the contents of a small powderflask into a bumper of brandy, he tendered him the mixture. He brought another small loaf, and a can with which he replenished the pitcher, recommending Jack to be careful, as he would get nothing further till morning. They used the rope—not that a rope was at all necessary, but because Ann Veronica’s exalted state of mind made the fact of the rope agreeably symbolical; and, anyhow, it did insure a joint death in the event of some remotely possibly mischance. CHAPTER X. Gerald sympathised with his friend’s irritation. And he unsheathed his sword. He looked melancholy enough, it is true. I am gambling on his intuition. You have grown into my life, and I cannot tear you out.
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