256 Lucy chose her words carefully. Gifts came from Florence: rubies and emeralds, a beautiful statue of Santa Maria for their garden grotto, a gorgeous silk tapestry of a hunting scene that alone made the price of her dowry look paltry. Altogether, it was a hideous and revolting sight. At the back of the house, on a bank, rose an old-fashioned terrace-garden, full of apple-trees and other fruittrees in blossom, and lively with the delicious verdure of early spring. He was really very proud of her, and extraordinarily angry and resentful at the innocent and audacious selfreliance that seemed to intimate her sense of absolute independence of him, her absolute security without him. He had already shown the covering envelope and its instructions to Ruth, and she had ignored or misunderstood the warning. “You were married to him!” “It could not be legal,” Annabel moaned.
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