“I do mean that,” she declared. . Her mother brewed potions to scent her hair, sweet balms of anise for her lips and hands, told her wonderful secrets, some decidedly un-Christian. He had invited himself to dine with her merely to watch her table manners. She kicked him in the shin, trying to knock him off his feet. “Do?” “Are you prepared to do things for us? Distribute bills? Write letters? Interrupt meetings? Canvass at elections? Face dangers?” “If I am satisfied—” “If we satisfy you?” “Then, if possible, I would like to go to prison. For the present, he murmured his farewells, and turning, caught Hilary’s eye and walked away, crossing the ballroom to move into the less opulent, and less crowded, saloon next door where servants were dispensing refreshments. Wood. She put back her hood in a determined way. He recalled with exasperating perplexity her clear, matter-of-fact tone as she talked about love-making being unconvincing.
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