The sounds of the seashore infiltrated her dreams as she floated in heavenly bliss of sleep. . ’ ‘You didn’t care. ’ If you engage me it must be upon my own merits. And then she fell into a musing about Capes. Even in her own sorry skin-and-bones state of wraithlike pallor and gray under eye circles she was drawing unwanted attention from would-be admirers. . When they were going home she asked her mother why she and Gwen and Alice had cried. ‘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.
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