“No, she just worries that I’ll go Satanic and start chomping the heads off of bats and mice or something. She could still remember herself at age five, staring knives and daggers at the men who came into the small yarn shop, under pretense of business but really just to leer. Be a good wife to him. A little inn flying a Swiss flag nestles under a great rock, and there they put aside their knapsacks and lunched and rested in the mid-day shadow of the gorge and the scent of resin. She appeared not to have realised the implications of her outburst, but clung a little to Gerald’s hands which had taken hers in a comforting clasp. And here against a wall were the plumtrees. ‘But what is it that amuses you, Jacques?’ Kimble’s grin spread wider. ’ She sighed relief to see a faint grin as he ventured to raise his head. “You are too good for me,” she said in a low voice.
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