This man was her husband in the eyes of both God and man. Lassitude?” “I suppose so. She felt her chest trying to float up, but the blessed undertow, the dreaded reason why she was warned to never bathe in the ocean, sucked her feet down, putting the decision where it belonged, into the hands of God. But, like all your overbearing sex, you must have your own way. ’ ‘You’re going?’ asked his friend, and the note of relief was marked. Fortescue rambled round the garden with soft, propitiatory steps, the Corinthian nose upraised and his hands behind his back, pausing to look long and hard at the fruit-trees against the wall. Taking hold of the hilt of his own foil, he drew it forth. Ramage demurred.
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