She knew that her voice was superior to Annabel’s, and she had no further qualms. Where was the harm in letting her go? She could not get far. Would there be enough in the young man's envelope to pay the doctor and the hotel bill—and in the event of his death, enough to ship the body home? So all things pointed to the happy circumstance of setting this young fool upon his feet again, of seeing him hence upon his journey. Her new husband had paid for a cadre of escorts back to Mantua. "The guv'ner'll be here afore midnight. I don’t want to Bowdlerize Shakespeare. She held up the lamp. .
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