‘Do you think I could endure to hear you prattling your abominable French in my ear day by day? Enough to drive me straight into my grave. Her cheeks were aflame. "What for?" demanded Wood. Tombs were desecrated, beautiful statues toppled, and the colorful shops that she had been enchanted by along the canal had been closed or burned. She had gone into Morgan's one afternoon for a bag of salt. Besides, it did not fit her well, which was why the loose wimple had slipped. She gasped with pain, but she did not release her grip. Usually it was fish sticks and reheated noodles.
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