If you talk of your faults, I shall talk of your splendors. Sir John looked about him, and somehow the laugh died away. Instead, he could not get beyond these minor details—why she wore the dress, whence she had come, and whither she was bound. ’ She tossed her head. ” He shook her diminutive hand. She could still remember herself at age five, staring knives and daggers at the men who came into the small yarn shop, under pretense of business but really just to leer. ‘Who me, sir? Lor’ no, sir. They could not go on.
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