When he came to a certain sentence in Brendon’s letter he stopped short and looked up at her. ‘And if not her, for she is dead, then me. He recognised this object at once. Later that night, after she had cleaned herself and changed her clothes, he returned. And now she comprehended that the man (she had never known him by any name) knew she had surprised the look and had not resented it. Hadn’t the stomach to admit the truth, had he? I’ll lay any money he labelled you with some foul French name as well. For nothing will ever convince me that it is not the man’s share in life to shield, to protect, to lead and toil and watch and battle with the world at large. Manning, her aunt and father, neighbors, customs, traditions, forces. Only an undermaid I was then.
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