A shaft of searing heat plunged downward. He lowered himself on to her. I don’t want to Bowdlerize Shakespeare. If only sometimes he would grow angry at her, impatient! But his tender courtesy was unfailing; and under this would be the abiding bitterness of having mistaken gratitude for love. ’ The full story—or as much as Gerald knew—of Valade’s machinations shocked the old lady so much that she was obliged to recruit her strength with a refill from the Madeira decanter. ’ A strangled sob escaped her as his thumb dug cruelly into the soft flesh of her wrist.
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