And now for the fawney— the ring I mean. She was, as Capes had said, a hard young woman. The beautiful city that she had been awed by and even grown to love had been abandoned. She felt surges of longing escape every corner of her flesh. Gerald tried it. ‘The general himself?’ ‘How shall I get my inheritance if the general will believe that pig?’ ‘Do wish you wouldn’t keep on calling him a pig,’ Martha begged. Her mother had died when she was thirteen, her two much older sisters had married off—one submissively, one insubordinately; her two brothers had gone out into the world well ahead of her, and so she had made what she could of her father. I’ve had the rarest luck and fallen on my feet. But what else he saw fit to teach her I do not care to stipulate.
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