‘Would you have me face my maker with that on my conscience? If I’d died, there’d have been no one to tell you, for your father would not have done. She had to exert tremendous energy not to sniff the air for his blood. That is what they call these aristocratic refugees, the English. Proper enough now, when he could not help himself, but the habit would be formed; and when he was strong again it would become the normal role, hers to give and his to receive. She dropped the manuscripts and swiftly brought the coat to him, noting that a button hung loose. I have neither father, mother, brother, sister, nor husband—I have only him.
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