Sir John was not used to such glances, and he liked them. The dress came to her only too manifestly unwashed from its former wearer; even the under-linen they gave her seemed unclean. Sheppard, whose maternal fears drew her in another direction, hurried off to the Mint. She 191 picked up the remote, usurping it of its dividing status between their bodies. ‘His granddaughter?’ ‘Yes, his son’s daughter. The very carts and vans and cabs that Wellington Street poured out incessantly upon the bridge seemed ripe and good in her eyes.
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