Wood, with a message for Lady Trafford. ’ ‘Parbleu, it is I who am the idiot?’ she scolded furiously, removing one hand and digging it into her sleeve. Stories … love stories: and to-morrow she would know the joy of reading them! It was almost unbelievable; it was too good to be true. ‘You are an avid reader, I take it. ‘I dare say the best plan will be for me to bring her to see you, after all. But she doesn’t and won’t divorce me. Reverse psychology or something, it’s like she was trying to draw him nearer by pushing him away. Through yet another doorway she observed an ancient silk brocade loom. However, I'd rather have a blow from the daughter than the mother.
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