The salt air was fresher than the stale air in the manor. Do you know how late it is?” She nodded. “And children must we women bear— “Oh, damn!” she cried, as the hundred-and-first couplet or so presented itself in her unwilling brain. She found she was trembling at his nearness and full of a thrilling dread that he might touch her. And probably the girl would wear herself out, too. What had happened to it? She had broken it, certainly. For if Gerald had indeed gone to see this Prudence, it was better to wait for his report. ‘I’m only a poor country wench, child. ” Or someone, she thought with disgust. He beamed a little as she disappeared into the orchestra room, a cacophony of tuning instruments.
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