"I would sacrifice all my fortune—all my hopes —to liberate him. His was the Latin turn of thinking; he had fallen in love at thirteen, and he was still capable—he prided himself—of falling in love. There was a round table covered, not with the usual “tapestry” cover, but with a plain green cloth that went passably with the wall-paper. It was a betrayal of God and her former family, but all in all was much easier. I found him once in my rooms, and I believe that he had a key to my front door. ‘Who has begun this but you?’ Gerald barely heard her.
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