She took refuge in beating her pillow and inventing insulting epithets for herself. "I had to give in to him. Just beyond there would be her heart's desire. “But why now? Don’t boys know that I am involved with John right now?” “That’s not the way it works, Lucy. There was no disgust in Ruth's heart, only an infinite pity; for only the pitiful understand. He taught her how to read and write in Latin and Greek, often rewarding her for her efforts with a flower or a trinket. She gave me an impression of a sort of patched quilt; little bits of patterned stuff coming up again and again. I promised to put him in touch with some people in Rome, an idea which he warmed to. Recognising the handwriting, he glanced swiftly at the signature, and uttering an explosive curse, cast the paper from him. I don’t care if you never tell me any of your secrets.
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