’ She glared at Hilary. Beethoven; he’s the best of them. His destination was the New Mint. ’ He had abandoned the “sir”, Gerald noted, realising that the footman’s respect for him had dropped sharply. “Where to?” he asked, as the hansom drove up. She thought then that she had shaken off the man of the bulging blue eyes forever, but that night she found he followed her into her dreams. ‘Go and fetch her home,’ he said; ‘it isn’t what we thought! It’s just a practical joke of hers. She could see over a waist high stone wall into the miniature courtyard, complete with benches only a small child could sit upon, one which had been broken in half, its two pieces left unjoined on the sandy ground. Blotted out—Love! With infinite care, through nearly a thousand pages, her father had obliterated the word Love.
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