Puffy blue curtains dressed every oakstained window. If I were to marry you now I should feel a dependent being all my life—a sort of parasitical creature without blood or muscle. When I carried you up here like a bride, that is the way I wanted us to be, Mary Lucia. Didn’t I say that this whole business of your camping in Remenham House was the one aspect I could not puzzle out?’ ‘You are very clever, monsieur Gérard,’ she conceded, although Gerald was amused by the grudging note, ‘but in truth it is not yet my house. ” “Wait,” she said.
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