For a while they stood there, silent, motionless, staring at the doorway where still a few strings of the bamboo curtain swayed and twisted, agitated by the Wastrel's passage. Ann Veronica stood in the twilight room staring at the door that had slammed upon her aunt, her pocket-handkerchief rolled tightly in her hand. "I didn't imagine for a moment that you'd accept it, but I thought it right to make you the offer. It—it is nothing,’ she said, although with a tremor in her voice. The nuns had no regard for the sensibilities of a “lady” and expected Melusine— for it was her allotted task—to clean and tend the soldier’s wounds even when they festered. I know that you were disappointed because I did not turn out to be the millionaire. Tomorrow you will feel like a freed woman.
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