It was just such a bedroom as she would have chosen for herself. ‘Gérard, do not go,’ she cried, breathless. She was crushed with a sense of her own terrible impotency. Days later, Sebastian found her by the lake, sobbing. “I was surprised, I admit,” he said. Jacques, Jacques!’ His face was white, but his eyes were open, if a trifle glazed. Her hand came up and she laced her fingers with his. “This girl—she’s really a very charming, frank person—had had her imagination fired, so she told me, by a school performance of Romeo and Juliet. And the woollen-draper departed.
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