Crouching down, Gerald waited, hands at the ready. “Oh. Of course, at home there would have been questions. Oh, God!” Rhea sniffed the air through two gaping nostrils that had eroded through her onion skin flesh. "You depart for Lancashire to-morrow. ‘Shocked you, have I? We weren’t mealy-mouthed in my day, my boy. ‘Only you made me lose my temper, and—’ ‘I made you do so? Pah!’ Gerald at last succeeded in ripping the handkerchief from her grasp, and swiftly held it to her neck, oblivious to her now bloodied fingers clawing at his hand. He found, however, that now the time had come he utterly lacked the courage to attempt any such speech. When she judged that she must be nearly back at the library, she began to feel somewhat dispirited. ‘Now what?’ The guard jerked his head up the corridor.
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