” She went as far as her door, then turned to the window. ” “How would you know I’m not ready? I’m older than you, remember? Sometimes you act so worldly, as if you’d seen it all. Sir John hesitated. Expiation. She drew up a chair and sat down, putting her palm on the damp, cold forehead. ‘Ah, now I may see what damage Gérard has done to me,’ she muttered, crossing to the table and putting her hand to the sore place at her neck. It must have cut him. Her evident terror and distress reinforced the tale he told. She removed the belt and drew down his zipper. When the disillusion comes, when the fairy story ends, if she is blessed with children, she doesn't mind.
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