He had never liked to be hugged, but she wondered if his corporeal needs would be made apparent by human touch. The bed was hard beyond any experience of hers, the bed-clothes coarse and insufficient, the cell at once cold and stuffy. She felt pride sashay into her thoughts. Then to the Golden Ball, in the same street. Prison was beastly. She pulled a few strands of her hair from her head to leave with Michelle’s. But once he had steered the lady down the hall and along a passage to a window seat at the end, he abandoned the subject of society. “I—I didn’t love the man I was engaged to,” she said.
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