The music confused and distracted her, and made her struggle against a feeling of intoxication. No doubt she was wondering what he had done in Charvill’s house and what he intended now. If a cart were coming, or those labourers in the field had heard, escape was impossible. Silence! Then Anna clutched her companion’s arm. Wanton! Had I been one, even God would have forgiven me, understanding. That is the age when Sebastianus took me for his bride. You can’t possibly understand!” He began a confused explanation, a perplexing contradictory apology for his urgency and wrath. The perfume was the only one she ever used. He could think about it later. ‘Very well, mademoiselle, so be it,’ he snapped.
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