At the least, the tales had the ability to make her forget where she was; which was something in their favour. Say I will come to him. She rambles continually about Jack, and her husband, and that wretch Jonathan, to whom, as far as can be gathered from her wild ravings, she attributes all her misery. Gerald doubted there would be many eager suitors, even assuming the comtesse was keen to marry off her daughter to a foreign protestant. Probably she was married years ago and is now merely on the way to her husband's house. ‘You obstinate little devil. I know not who you are; and, as I cannot discern your face, I may be doing you an injustice.
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