‘First I must see Jacques, and—’ ‘No need for that,’ intervened Roding, grasping her arm and trying to drag her to the door. Afterward he stole out of the room with the bloodstained sheet to boast her virginity to his brothers and father, which only truly mattered because she was beautiful, her mother had said. I’ll try to stay as long as I can. After all, what did it matter?—it or anything else in the world? She was within reach of his arms, beautiful, compelling, herself as it seemed suddenly conscious of the light which was burning in his eyes. Manning would on no account do, though he was tall and dark and handsome and kind, and thirty-five and adequately prosperous, and all that a husband should be. Her father—man of rock—had never needed her, whereas Hoddy, even if he did not love her, would always be needing her. He growled in his throat and, thrusting his coat open, revealed his own buckled sword-belt. There were groves of cultivated guava, orange, lemon, and pomegranate. “John,” she said, “I can spare you that question.
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