The girl wished that she had come afoot, despite the knowledge that she would have suffered many inconveniences, accidental and intentional jostling, insolence and ribald jest. The girl, with a little moan, crossed the room and threw open the window. ‘Then it is that you will have pity? Here we have come, we poor, for aid. She touched it, and her gaze lifted. Painting is only one slender branch of the great tree. Fearful that she had given herself away, she sank back down onto her stool. “May I tell Nigel to come and see you again? I am not here to do his love-making for him, you know.
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