Part 8 And as she sat on her bed that night, musing and half-undressed, she began to run one hand down her arm and scrutinize the soft flow of muscle under her skin. “Thank you. "An idea has just occurred to me," said Gay, "which Jack's narrative has suggested. Why, that boy could hide for thirty years—without the girl. But I want to know whether in such an event you would stand by me?” She held out her hand. She sat on the edge of the bed —the wardress was too busy with the flood of arrivals that day to discover that she had it down—and her skin was shivering from the contact of these garments.
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