9. Before she put on her sun-helmet, she paused before the mirror. Even Capes had been for her merely an excitant to passionate love—a mere idol at whose feet one could enjoy imaginative wallowings. Wood rushed instantly to meet them. Her heart ached; and that puzzled her. ‘Why?’ ‘Why take me to France? Why trouble himself with me, when so easily he could leave me to this Monsieur Remenham to keep?’ To Melusine’s instant suspicion, Martha bit her lip, drew a breath, and avoided her charge’s gaze. As sure as he is now living, I'll pay him a visit in the Old Bailey before morning. She loved Florence, wandering the huge markets which bustled day and night. She described it so vividly.
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