"Now, Mr. Could she understand what she was talking about? Luckily it was a second-class carriage and the ordinary fellowtravellers were not there. You've caught the colour and the life. “David Courtlaw!” she repeated. ” She pulled a small blue box out of the pocket of her hoodie. She looked more than her sixty odd years, in spite of a still lush head of black hair, streaked with a little grey, which was visible under her cap and of immediate interest to Gerald. She could not apply it in this instance because she was not sure the application would be correct. "I thought it best that you should imagine him. Do not disquiet yourself.
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