She had been careless. ‘Comment? What do you say?’ Gerald looked down into her face, and found himself touched by the uncertainty he saw there. Entering the workshop, he found the blacksmith occupied in heating the tire of a cart wheel. Like a trollop in heat. She had but to choose. He did not know—and probably never would unless she told him—that it was very easy (and comfortable for a woman) to fall into slatternly ways in this latitude. She looked around her. In the evening, a band of village musicians, accompanied by most of the young inhabitants of Willesden, strolled out to Dollis Hill, where they formed a rustic concert under the great elm before the door. I was rude and stupid. “I believe it is. ‘From the convent, where else?’ ‘It does not strike me that you can possibly have been in a convent.
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