“What’s the objection?” “I suppose she ought to know?” said Gwen to her mother, trying to alter the key of the conversation. ’ ‘And I love the way you call me imbecile,’ finished Gerald. She tended the twins while the Clotilde was in Sebastian’s private chambers, a place she gave a wide berth. Still—” Then, with incredible and obviously deliberate stupidity, and a voice as flat as her own, he asked, “Who is the man?” Her spirit raged within her at the dumbness, the paralysis that had fallen upon her. ‘I am done, Gérard. It wasn’t clear to me that I had to explain. Spurlock was basically a poet, quick to recognize beauty, animate or inanimate, and to transcribe it in unuttered words.
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