You will be free to remarry, of course. Somebody ought to talk to him, warn him. Jack seemed glad enough to rest, his back against the wall, and closed his eyes. Still—” Then, with incredible and obviously deliberate stupidity, and a voice as flat as her own, he asked, “Who is the man?” Her spirit raged within her at the dumbness, the paralysis that had fallen upon her. She was clad in fresh linen, but still wore the riding-habit she had appropriated, having sponged out the spots of blood late last night and left it to dry in the kitchens. Probably his first serious bout with John Barleycorn.
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