Chapter 46 No.46

Through the late September and October days Gerda would lie on a wicker couch in the conservatory at Windover, her sprained leg up, her broken wrist on a splint, her mending head on a soft pillow, and eat pears. Grapes too, apples, figs, chocolates of course-but particularly pears. She also wrote verse, and letters to Barry, and drew in pen and ink