” She put her wrists upon his shoulders, feeling him surge with the pride of his own masculinity as she touched him. He tried not to think—of Ruth with her mother's locket, of her misguided father, taking his lonely way to sea. He seemed to be trying to understand something very perplexing and elusive. By the time she arrived at the Beck’s doorstep, the morning was risen. ‘Oh my God,’ uttered Gerald in some dismay. She stared. ‘Don’t concern yourself. Give me your staff. ‘No, for you had your own selfish plans already made, that is now seen.
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