"How?" cried her brother, starting. Her husband had caught her leaning over a precipice into the ruins of the oubliette, and had punished her by flogging her back with a switch. For if Gerald had indeed gone to see this Prudence, it was better to wait for his report. Gerald watched its approach with vague interest, which quickened when he saw that it was drawing up outside the very house out of which he had just stepped. “How so?” “I should have shared these things with you earlier, my sweet heart. The trees were graceful and brown, arching and fanning their golden leaves as if to shower with coins the pink-gold sky.
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