There was only one prisoner in the ward. She hastened past. ‘You know pretty much everything you need to know. ‘You were right, miss. Men of action by the scarlet coats with their grey facings—insignia of the county militia. Her knees were trembling, her whole frame was shaken with sobs. There was nothing on the Tablets of Moses that forebade Spurlock marrying Ruth; there were no previous contracts. She saw her life before her robbed of all generous illusions, the wrappered life unwrappered forever, vistas of dull responses, crises of makebelieve, years of exacting mutual disregard in a misty garden of fine sentiments. She suspected that he would take a mistress just as soon as they returned to Florence. ‘To me, quickly!’ There was a brief hush, and then the shouts resumed and several pairs of feet clattered towards her from, as it seemed, several directions.
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