She fell with a plop onto her rear end in the mud and sat dumbly like a statue, water eddying around her. There was no reason why she shouldn’t be Capes’ friend. ‘Jacques! This—this bête he attacks me, and you stand there and you do nothing. Jiggle-joggle, jiggle-joggle…! For each pause she was grateful. Sheppard reached the debtor's garrison. She felt privileged above other women at parties, where she was on display as all the duchesses and queens looked upon her with envy as he was so clearly entranced by her in every way. She was consumed by misery and hate.
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