’ ‘Well, I am glad he did not,’ intervened Lucilla, forestalling another withering comment from the captain. She allowed herself to be ejected, therefore, and retired to the parlour after cleansing the blood from her hands and her own slight wound in the kitchen. For a while they stood there, silent, motionless, staring at the doorway where still a few strings of the bamboo curtain swayed and twisted, agitated by the Wastrel's passage. At last—I told a story. ‘Doesn’t she, Gerald?’ Gerald held up his hands. The twins were a hard delivery, a C-Section. Then his tiny bow mouth opened into an adoring smile.
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