Aware of the footman hovering, and the hackney coachman’s curious eyes looking down from his box, Gerald leaned a little towards her and spoke in a lowered tone. She had to resist an impulse of sheer terror, to run out after them and give in. But she no longer obsessed over heresy, no longer did she feel cursed by God. She had treated him badly; she had hurt him and her aunt; she had done wrong by their standards, and she would never persuade them that she had done right. During the wet monsoon the west beach was always littered. Her answer was not quite ready. She answered weakly, “I’m fine, John.
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