Gerald guessed she was biting her tongue on an explosive retort as she eyed him. She fought him with tooth and nail. “Does he never speak to you of—of old times?” she faltered. This is her first adventure. The windows of these rooms were obscured with draperies, their floors a carpet patchwork; the china ornaments on their mantels were of a class apart. She had made her first fight for dignity and freedom as a grown-up and independent Person, and this was how the universe had treated her. She was clad in fresh linen, but still wore the riding-habit she had appropriated, having sponged out the spots of blood late last night and left it to dry in the kitchens.
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