’ He held out his hand to help the girl descend. He depended upon her, for his medicine, for his drink, for the little amusement it was now permissible to give him. “Gross. ” He rowed a stroke and watched the swirl of water from his oar broaden and die away. “Don’t be a hypocrite. Her mother brewed potions to scent her hair, sweet balms of anise for her lips and hands, told her wonderful secrets, some decidedly un-Christian. " "Be pacified, sweet soul," said Wood, looking meaningly at Thames; "you shall go, and I will accompany you. The air might be cool, but half an hour without head-gear was an invitation to sunstroke.
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