It was a moment or two before Gerald realised that he could feel the fluttering of her pulse beneath the light touch he had on her wrist, and that her fingers were trembling in his. Her anger died and she eyed him. He swore that I was his wife, that chance had given me to him at last. ” She glared at Sebastian over the drawing table where she was sketching in chalk, then over at the fifteen year old boy who was asleep in a disheveled pile of rushes in the corner. Oh, and weeks and months of thought and feeling there are bottled up too. One day she had thrown all the gifts into the lagoon, and visited the secret nook no more. Knew something was up.
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