“There have been other times,” he said a little sadly. You have never felt the hearts of all hardened against you; have never heard the jeer or curse from every lip; nor endured the insult and the blow from every hand. Her mind invoked her husband, who she imagined lying dead in a ditch somewhere, tortured and killed by brigands or perhaps eaten by creatures like herself, a fate he actually deserved. Thrilling, she began to dance, swirled, glided, and dipped. He suggested they take the remains of the household to his country estate, where he could at least hunt through the winter to provide them venison and grouse.
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