’ The woman shrugged helpless shoulders, looking to her husband. They sat down in a covered pavilion that housed a grimy picnic table and a dingy fire pit. She went to market every day to fetch the daily bread and more herbs for more medicines and potions, plus treats for the apprentices made of honey and almond paste. She still could not muster the strength to leave. He was apt to play so many games, she was afraid she might have misunderstood. The letter began: “MY DEAREST GIRL,—I cannot let you do this foolish thing—” She crumpled notes and letter together in her hand, and then with a passionate gesture flung them into the fire. He'll be here two or three days. ” “How?” “It prevents our marrying.
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