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” “Dear me,” Anna laughed, “how unfortunate! What ought I to do? Should I be forgiven, do you think, if I were to go and hold that skein of wool for the old lady in the yellow cap?” “Don’t speak of her irreverently,” Brendon said, in an awed whisper. She dared not look directly at him, her head obscured by a gray hoodie, she had the slumped appearance of an androgynous adolescent. “Please, Michelle, let’s not fight. On reaching the churchyard, he perceived the melancholy procession descending the hill. “Forgive me,” he decided to say at last, and his voice had a little quiver of emotion, and he laid his hand on hers upon her knee. She could still smell the now familiar scent of him on the girl's body in the makeshift grave. ’ Abruptly, the niggling doubt that had been plaguing Lord Charvill came sweeping to the surface. "Perhaps," replied Wood, doubtfully.
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