She threw out a hand to stop herself from cannoning into them and, losing balance, tripped over her own petticoats and fell to the carpeted floor, her hat falling off as she did so. She felt the need to get dressed, sensing that his parents would be home soon. He sat down on the sill of the open window, folded his arms, and stared straight before him for a long time over the wilderness of tiles and chimney-pots into a sky that was blue and empty. Those lives removed,—and Sir Rowland is completely in his power, the estates would be yours—HIS! if he were your husband. His age was not far from fifty. Come along, you mad jade.
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