‘But do you think I can blame you for this, Marthe?’ ‘I blame myself. It was easy to discern Gianfrancesco’s mood. Evidently he was gazing at the dull red roofs of the city: but was he registering what he saw? Never glance sideways at man, the old Kanaka woman had said. The rest were hieroglyphic characters, executed in red chalk and charcoal. Lucy kicked her side, then her wounded leg, dislodging her. It’s a sort of home-leaving instinct. Lucy’s guts ached with jealousy and bitterness, building in a knot that twisted in her stomach, rag-like. ’ ‘I didn’t bring him,’ Gerald returned swiftly. ‘Major Alderley, ma’am, and General Lord Charvill.
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