She pointed suddenly at the portrait. He was sipping a glass of cold gin and water, and smoking a short black pipe. ’ ‘Just what I thought, miss. Beauty doesn’t mean, never has meant, anything—anything at all but you. Kneebone made no effort to check the unreasonable merriment of his companions, but rather seemed to encourage it. There was more to be told, and this was as good a time as any. ’ Obediently, Gerald rose and walked to the other end of the parlour. No matter what the fire and force of his passion, it falters eventually, and forever after smoulders or goes out. Her father became much less distant towards his only daughter in the days that followed. She laughed a little bitterly. Her normally shiny hair was 143 stringy and flat. ‘The poor girl was thrust into a convent to become a nun. The winters were bitter here, they could have just as easily been frozen off.
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