Sheppard. She was not altogether surprised when she found a deer, gutted of its entrails and strung with a garland of flowers, on the cave’s doorstep one humid summer morning. Missy looked like a troll with lipstick on. Not MY affair. Lucy kicked her side, then her wounded leg, dislodging her. Suddenly Anna felt her hand seized and imprisoned in Courtlaw’s burning fingers. Already he was dramatizing Ruth, involving her, now in some pearl thieving adventure, now in some impossible tale of a white goddess. He gently took the roses from her and laid them on the pillow. I see that I am a beast—I beg your pardon, bête—and an imbecile, and an idiot.
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