It’s no half reform either. A young lad—Roding took him for a footman, or a groom by the neat black garb—was halted some paces away from Valade, his hat in his hand as he made pretence of fanning himself. A smile trembled at the corners of her mouth as she recalled Gerald’s ridiculous upbraiding of his own reflection in the mirror. The clock struck half-past ten. Fritz sang for her sometimes, for Fritz could sing even before he was able to form words. ‘Yes, only that this consolation he had found before he married my mother. It slid off flimsily. Austin, or any man of similar dimensions, would have found wholly impossible. I’m not sure if Janine cared.
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