She could have traded it for gold nuggets and lived like a queen for a few weeks, but she did not. “I brought a man with me who is posted outside,” he remarked. And how much I owe you, too, dearest Winifred, for your kindness and attention. He smiled complacently. “But why,” he said in the gasping voice of one subduing an agony, and looked at her from under a pain-wrinkled brow, “why did you not tell me this before?” “I didn’t know—I thought I might be able to control myself. She loved to walk through the gardens, graced with columns that loomed overhead.
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