’ *** Martha sniffed dolefully, scrubbing at her reddened eyes with a large square of damp linen. The lady grasped it more firmly and turned it upon Hilary. He was a thin old man, a wreck in a ruined body, but nothing would induce him to stand in any other way than as stiffly erect as possible like the soldier he had always been, even though he was obliged to lean on his silver-handled cane to do so. I did not care—no woman really cares—to play the beggar maid to your King Cophetua. I can no longer bear to address you by that formal madame. Lucy stood in front of the piano. She accepted his rejoinder with a brief nod. The expression was wholly different.
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