“Forgive my coming in,” she said to Ennison. “A man like that taints a girl by looking at her, by his mere conversation. He seemed to stay away from her because she was so cold and formal towards him, addressing him as Mister McCloskey as if she were an Irish maid. She was unusually soft and gentle in her manner to him. The rain smelled of the Tyrrhenian Sea, which lay only a few paces beyond the manor's white sea-soaked walls. But to go courting a slave-girl, at the risk of physical hurt! A shudder of distaste wrinkled her shoulders.
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