Well, my dear, it is time you stopped wallowing in your sorrows like a common wretch. I didn’t believe him and I said so. " He paused, and not without malice. In fact, Kimble was drowsily awake when she entered the little bedchamber, the state of which left a good deal to be desired, even without the added debris arising from tending a wounded man. She appeared not to have realised the implications of her outburst, but clung a little to Gerald’s hands which had taken hers in a comforting clasp. She looked up and said, a little breathlessly, “I’m sorry, aunt, but I don’t think I can.
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