They travelled in silence through the empty lanes.
Driving in a motor-car excited her, she forgot his presence even.
'Where are we?' she asked suddenly.
'Not far from Worksop.'
'And where are we going?'
'Anywhere.'
It was the answer she liked.
She opened her hand to look at the rings. They gave her SUCH pleasure,
as they lay, the three circles, with their knotted jewels, entangled in
her palm. She would have to try them on. She did so secretly, unwilling
to let him see, so that he should not know her finger was too large for
them. But he saw nevertheless. He always saw, if she wanted him not to.
It was another of his hateful, watchful characteristics.
Only the opal, with its thin wire loop, would go on her ring finger.
And she was superstitious. No, there was ill-portent enough, she would
not accept this ring from him in pledge.
'Look,' she said, putting forward her hand, that was half-closed and
shrinking. 'The others don't fit me.'
He looked at the red-glinting, soft stone, on her over-sensitive skin.
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