There were dark rims under her eyes, soft now with unshed tears. ‘You are, I think, a gentleman, no?’ Gerald bowed. The salt air was fresher than the stale air in the manor. The tears were welling over now, but her voice was steady. ’ Mrs Prudence Sindlesham, a widow of several years’ standing, so she told Gerald, was a scarecrow of a female, long and lank of limb in a figure that had once been willowy. Ruth did not consider it necessary, however, to add that she had not notified this aunt of her coming, that she did not know whether the aunt still resided in Hartford or was underground.
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