She could still feel his psychic presence all around her, and she knew he was thinking of her. The man had favoured him with a brief nod, but the girl had gone so far as to offer a tiny smile, and a look under her lashes with which not even Gerald, for all his scant interest in female society, could fail to be familiar. "You open it, Ruth. It was shameful, but again, her mother had prepared her for it. So I dare say I was christened Jack. Wood. Their faces were masks of abject horror, sunken and shriveled, their cheekbones protruding. In an instant, she turned on him. She found herself alone in the train asking herself what she must do next, and trying not to think of herself as cut off from home or any refuge whatever from the world she had resolved to face. Wood could not avoid making a slight shuffling sound. Sir Montacute had three children—two daughters and yourself.
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