He reached for her and she stroked his head soothingly as his mother had done a few times when he had suffered bad fevers. Oh! that I should live to be father-in-law to a peer of France! What would my poor wife say to it, if she could come to life again? Oh, Thames!—my lord marquis, I mean—you have made me the happiest—the proudest of mankind. It was astonishing how often this picture returned: cold rosy apples and flurries of snow. She receded into the entryway, opening her palm and gesturing as if there were an imaginary red carpet rolled out for visitors. She sat very still, and his eyes rested on that ornament for a moment, and then travelled slowly to her wrist and the soft lines of her forearm. Here would be a woman perfectly unrecognizable, strong, ruthless but just.
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