Vorsack sauntered into the room, sporting her usual toothy thin254 lipped grin. Gerald glanced down and saw her dash at a spread of blood on his own hand, only now realising that her dagger had found its mark. “I knew,” she said, in a low despairing tone, “that people would talk. The recollection of all her unhappiness, the loveless years, the unending loneliness, the injustice of it, rolled up to her lips in verbal lava. Every now and then she fingered an ornament, moved a piece of furniture, or rearranged some draperies.
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