’ He moved to his friend and grasped his hand in a gesture as deliberately dramatic as the storytelling of mademoiselle. “Think of the mockery!” she said. She sought hastily in her mind for a plausible answer to an obvious question that didn’t come. Or perhaps my father once. I'll talk to her in the morning, but she won't understand what I'm driving at. It was noon when the caravan reached the tower of the water-clock. When he found himself thinking about it, it upset him so that he at once resorted to distraction. But the fall was too great, and he abandoned the attempt. She left them and went back to Sebastian, never uttering a word about her visit. Dizzily, she grabbed at the mantel for support and, resting her head on her hands, paid no heed to a betraying sound behind her—until an unexpected arm encircled her. “Why should it matter?” he said.
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