Gerald reached Mr Collins' house by the time the Sun had risen from behind the horizon. He could smell the scent of roasted coffee beans and heard a light clattering of dishes as he peeked inside through the window.
He saw Mr Collins combing his sparse white hair while standing in front of the mirror. But he was not interested in the old man. His desperate eyes moved to the kitchen area to see Bertha preparing coffee and breakfast.
The moment he got a glimpse of her smile after something Mr Collins said, Gerald's chest constricted, and he felt like choking.
No, he couldn't face her just now. He needed some time to clear up his head.
Though all he wanted was to touch Bertha once, he felt he was too impure to do so that he would impure her too. Gerald's head spun. Before he did something stupid, he decided to go back home.
