Never sent for the shirt. No other white people within twenty miles. If I had never met anything of you at all but a scrap of your skin binding a book, Ann Veronica, I know I would have kept that somewhere near to me. Mrs Sindlesham’s wrinkled cheek had paled, and her eyes were fixed upon Gerald in a look that wrung his heart. The man muttered something inaudible, and gathered up the reins. He had not addressed to her even the most ordinary courtesy of fellow travellers; she doubted that he was even aware of her existence. This was not exactly what the woollen-draper desired. ‘Do please continue,’ Gerald begged, deceptively docile. She pointed hither and yon, smiled and shook her head.
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