“Yeah, I’ve heard that story. Each one had been different from the others, each had had a quality all its own, a distinctive freshness, a distinctive beauty. He was the social order; he was law and wisdom. . Something as yet unformulated within her kept her estranged from all these practical aspects of her beliefs. But she no longer obsessed over heresy, no longer did she feel cursed by God. Gerald took Madame’s hand and kissed the fingers with a little more warmth than punctilio demanded. ‘No more, Saling, no more,’ said Mrs Sindlesham in accents of exhaustion. Something with iron resolve the father had kept hidden all these years in the lonely citadel of his heart. ‘Tell me about the convent? Were you happy there? They were kind to you, the nuns?’ ‘Oh, but yes. “One has to live and learn,” she remarked, with a passable imitation of her father’s manner.
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