“Ye Gods!” she said at last. In fact, Gerald had given order to the coachman to drive out of Golden Square and then stop around the corner. A smile flickered upon her lips as she glanced towards Brendon, who was very serious indeed. Sebastian administered bitter tonics to her, fluids she could not taste with her swollen tongue. They were horrible people. The fragrance of dryer sheets lay upon her like the snow that now drifted peacefully outside. “There,” he said, “you don’t treat me fairly, Miss Stanley. “We may just as well have our talk afterwards,” she said, “and I need not keep poor Mr. Please to let me go there.
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