That would be an unkind twist of fate. For when this Joan said it, I had a memory. “I am very much obliged for the tea,” she said. ” She looked at him, pleading, miserable in her fancy gown. Also, you must send someone to fetch my horse—at least, it is not mine but I have borrowed it to come here—because it will be dark very soon and—’ ‘Woof! Hold it, hold it,’ begged the sergeant. She had a nut-brown skin, a swarthy upper lip, a merry black eye, a prominent bust, and a tun-like circumference of waist.
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