But no matter how you phrase it, the end is the same. Ah Cum, sensing the difficulty, approached, recovered the damp handkerchief and returned it. It was not due to shyness: it was the inherent instinct of the Woman, a protective fear that she must retain some elements of mystery in order to hold the interest of the male. She was clad in fresh linen, but still wore the riding-habit she had appropriated, having sponged out the spots of blood late last night and left it to dry in the kitchens. “Well,” she achieved at last. He shall expiate his offences on the gibbet. There was no mistaking his intentions this time.
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