She could hear their footsteps upon the pavement. It was not as bad a wound as she had at first thought, and the blood was only oozing now. Suddenly a half stifled exclamation broke from Anna’s lips. . I want to be your knight, your servant, your protector, your—I dare scarcely write the word—your husband. The same pale white buttocks, the same freckles in the same unchanging patterns on her collarbone that all of her mother’s potions had never been able to erase. Vaguely she heard the distinctive sound of male voices as she saw Gosse dive towards the fateful pew.
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