Gerald did not know who she was, but he knew who she was not. "Sir Cecil is no more. She attacked me with a carving-knife, and, when I had disarmed her, the jade bit off a couple of fingers from my left hand. Indeed I must. Nobody regards Constance or Vee as a delicate trifle. “Let me get you some water, Annabel. That world of fine printed cambrics and escorted maidens, of delicate secondary meanings and refined allusiveness, presented itself to her imagination with the brightness of a lost paradise, as indeed for many women it is a lost paradise. Yet she held her tongue.
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