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She looked up and said, a little breathlessly, “I’m sorry, aunt, but I don’t think I can. . ’ The smile vanished. She had not noticed such beauty in many years, and it almost caused her to weep. And neither had any of that theatricality which demands gestures and facial expression. Now the pig knew where to find her—for it would not take long for a Catholic to locate the convent in Golden Square—even if she escaped him here. There was a huge desk of heavily carved ebony at one end, and at the centre, a couple of straight-backed chairs stood before a great fireplace at the outer wall, flanked by two bookshelves with casement windows above. I want to shout! I want to sing! I am glad! I am glad to be alive because you are alive! I am glad to be a woman because you are a man! I am glad! I am glad! I am glad! I thank God for life and you. He had forgiven everybody. Not a bark could be discerned on the river, except those already mentioned.

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