I want to be your knight, your servant, your protector, your—I dare scarcely write the word—your husband. ‘I rather suspect,’ added Prudence, ‘that Major Alderley’s motives were somewhat different. ‘The fact of it is,’ I said, ‘I’m the new playwright, Thomas More. It was his redemption, his ticket out of hell—that blue-serge coat. He's a hundred miles sou'-east of me. ‘For kissing you, or for not meaning to do so?’ ‘Imbecile,’ exclaimed Melusine impatiently. “Reuben, come here.
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