Spurling was in a state of distraction and began to abuse Jonathan so violently that her future husband was obliged to lay forcible hands upon her and drag her away. He was bewildered. He had informed her that to leave him would be a choice to live a life of meager subsistence. Her thoughts were deflected from Vivie Warren by the peculiar behavior of a middle-aged gentleman in Piccadilly. She was clad in fresh linen, but still wore the riding-habit she had appropriated, having sponged out the spots of blood late last night and left it to dry in the kitchens. Miss Miniver looked over her glasses at her friend almost balefully. “Dear friend,” she said, “this is a matter which you must leave to me to do as I think best.
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