“I was sick of the make-believe. ’ She shook her head sadly. Sindlesham tried. “Perhaps. There was only one idea in his head now—to batter and bruise and crush this weakling, then cast him at the feet of his love-lorn wife. Then she passed from the room on the arm of General Lord Charvill, chatting animatedly to him. To even presume a lustful thought about her was to ask for one’s own death. She wished he could smoke and dull his nerves a little. He depended upon her, for his medicine, for his drink, for the little amusement it was now permissible to give him. At the end of two long lines of foot-guards stood the cart with a powerful black horse harnessed to it. Instead of which, more than half an hour has elapsed. A little table covered with a damask cloth was dragged out. " "The very reason why I like him, Winny.
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