“Let us escape,” she said. ’ ‘Parbleu, it is I who am the idiot?’ she scolded furiously, removing one hand and digging it into her sleeve. Pearls too! I mean it. Or had she, like himself, been held up until the fellow returned to town? He waited, his ready humour anticipating her likely reaction. Out of an old family album: here was the very comparison that had eluded him. She feared he might take her tears as a sign of weakness. ’ ‘Merci,’ she sighed and, surrendering at last to his oft-proffered aid, allowed her head to droop onto his chest.
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