She had imagined that prisons were white-tiled places, reeking of lime-wash and immaculately sanitary. ‘You are wise, Marthe. I fancy that Sir John does not approve of me. I have slept with it under my pillow. Ruth, having decided a course for herself—that of renunciation—and having the strength to keep it, met these advances in precisely the mood they were offered. Still, it was rather terrible to suspect that one had fallen from grace, but nevertheless the thing was possible. ‘Word has it that she is English on her father’s side. Your father is very angry, and will not have her name mentioned in his hearing. Your servant, Mr. I’d only have to do something about it, and that I can’t.
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