" Quilt, however, seemed unwilling to speak. What in the world was the wench up to now? For it must be she. And thus it was that she came upon a book of Stevenson's verse—her first adventure into poetry. Please don’t tell anyone, mister. ‘Is that a gesture of friendship?’ She stamped her foot. At this juncture, a cry was raised by a servant from below, that the robbers were flying through the garden. The girl was flushed with excitement, bright-eyed, and braced for a struggle; her aunt had never seen her looking so fine or so pretty. ’ ‘Yes, that rather leapt to the eye,’ Gerald said, and the faint smile sent a lick of warmth down inside her.
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