It is I who took the burden of your misdeeds upon my shoulders that you might become Lady Ferringhall. Picked up the photograph, looked at it, handed it back, and never batted an eye! The act was as clear as daylight, but the motive was as profoundly mysterious as the race itself. She gazed steadily out of the window at that arc of glittering lights. “I was really interested in his stuff. Ramage,” she said, “I can’t—Not now. Washed in light from the vestry window, she held her ground, all thought at bay, bar the steel determination long ago instilled in her by her unconventional tutor. In fact, Gerald had given order to the coachman to drive out of Golden Square and then stop around the corner. As the wedding neared, she bought some finer things: a veal roast for supper, a single pearl for the dowry. She complained of the crowded cities, dismayed that the people were repopulating them like rabbits. And now— I suppose I should be considered too old. In any event, I would not have let her escape me so easily. Her mind left her.
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