Gerald

Gerald stands eloquently silent in drawing-rooms and at street corners, a man whose gentle certainty about love collides with Miriam's overwhelmed sense of inadequate youth. He offers a rose with childlike plaintive brows and man's grave eyes, and in that gesture the magic gleam that has lain over every visible thing comes at last into her hold. His patient, waiting presence forces Miriam to examine alone the surprises of being in love, and his vision of a happiness that is not boy-and-girl happiness becomes the measure against which she tests her own freedom.