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‘What’s more, I wouldn’t blame her. ’ Her conversation was wonderful, Gerald decided. She let out a wail. If the Wastrel had not turned the instant he did, the ball would have missed him; as it was he turned directly into its path. And even she was forced to admit to herself that this last resource of hers was a slender reed on which to lean. By a miracle, he averted its path, his hold on the girl’s mouth shifting fast to grasp her wrist. While he was swinging in mid air, Thames regarded his uncle with a stern look, and cried in a menacing voice, "We shall meet again. You promise me you’ll never grow old, you hear?” “I promise.
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