After an affectionate parting with Winifred, Thames was conducted by the carpenter to his sleeping apartment—a comfortable cosy chamber; such a one, in short, as can only be met with in the country, with its dimity-curtained bed, its sheets fragrant of lavender, its clean white furniture, and an atmosphere breathing of freshness. Throughout the afternoon, while the doctor was giving her the first lesson out of his profound knowledge of life, her interest would break away continually, despite her honest efforts to pin it down to the facts so patiently elucidated for her. Still—I don’t know whether I quite like—Something ramshackle about those people, Vee. She had never experienced anything so disagreeable in her life as the sense of being held helplessly off her feet. “Contrarily, you are sitting on a sepulcher of death! It 30 is only a matter of time before the Pestilence strikes here again, Gianfrancesco. "Ah!" exclaimed Lady Trafford, exerting all her strength.
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