She veiled her emotion by taking off his overcoat. She had arranged for a supper of tea, a boiled egg, and some tinned peaches. She had first picked up the fiddle back when it was still called a viol, that was how long she had been at it. Or I should say—’ ‘Eugenia,’ cut in Gerald grimly. She looked down at him and saw that the sunlight was gleaming from his cheeks, and that all over his cheeks was a fine golden down of delicate hairs. He must be tied behind the carriage. This intelligence, which she instantly communicated to the carpenter, drove him almost frantic. But Gerald wouldn’t hear of it. The winter had turned sea and sky to a wet gray.
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