In fact, Gerald had given order to the coachman to drive out of Golden Square and then stop around the corner. ‘Cover her, men. It was horrible, but what could she do? She meant to live her own life, and he meant, with contempt and insults, to prevent her. But days had now passed. But to go courting a slave-girl, at the risk of physical hurt! A shudder of distaste wrinkled her shoulders. She approached this field with her usual liveliness of apprehension. He drew her away from this thought. She found it extremely difficult to infuse an air of quiet correctitude into her return through the window, and when she was safely inside she waved clinched fists and executed a noiseless dance of rage.
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