Twelve years, then, have elapsed since the date of the occurrences detailed in the preceding division of this history. Sir Cecil, who with Rowland and some others had entered the room rushed to the window with a torch. Why shouldn’t we be martyrs? There’s nothing else for most of us, anyhow. An immediate halt took place. Day after day she pounded him with curses, saying that her mother looked down on him from Heaven and sent a curse, to which he laughed. Very intelligent, by the looks of the books she was carrying. Automatically, she glanced at the slight red graze left on her neck that marked the point where Gerald’s sword had nicked her.
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