“See that man?” Sebastian would tap her on the shoulder on a crowded alleyway and say, “See how he lingers too long when he touches that little child? The glow in his eyes? That is lustful intent, my dear. Unless there was some real metal in the young fool, some hidden strength with which to breast the current, Ruth would become a millstone around his neck and soon he would become to her an object of pity and contempt. Her safety lay in pretense—that what she saw was as a tale twice told. ‘And it is perhaps not so necessary that I do so, because Joan has told me of another who may like to say I am the daughter of Mary Remenham. Neither Charvill nor his heir know anything of your presence in England. She regarded him coldly, as though wondering whether he had anything further to say.
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