We already had a place to mislay blame. Here was a poor half-naked creature, with a straw crown on his head, and a wooden sceptre in his hand, seated on the ground with all the dignity of a monarch on his throne. He breathed heavily, as though he had been running. ” “I don’t care. He certainly bore inspection. If only she had thought to plunge the scissors into her own heart! Hoddy … to return and find her either gone or dead! But even as the Wastrel's arms gathered her, there came the sound of hurrying steps on the veranda. She lived, he noted, very carelessly. She twisted to meet him and folded into his embrace. “That is as you will,” she said.
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