“We won’t. One of the shutters was a trifle damaged, letting in added light. ‘You will release me at once, imbecile. '—'What is it, Mint?' asked all three. It was clear she wanted to get away from home, that she was impatient to get away from home. The hour for which, presumably, she had been created was drawing nigh. “Let us go to that little place at the back of the Palace. A white house that she often found charming loomed gray and ashen, its gardens shorn for the coming winter. “I mean it. There was no such a thing as perfection in a mixed world. She would often steal away to tryst with him in the orchard, even now she felt her loins grow warm with the memory of his ardor.
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