Her brown curls were pulled tight in a severe chignon. "I am very wicked," she said. He gave her one of the sweaty red cans. "Look at him!" Ruth looked. They WERE weird. He was sitting back from the table now, with one arm over the back of his green chair and the other resting on the little table. The soldiers! They must not find her here. The nuns had no regard for the sensibilities of a “lady” and expected Melusine— for it was her allotted task—to clean and tend the soldier’s wounds even when they festered. And a right set-to there were betwixt him and Mr Jarvis, I can tell you. He will let you live if it pleases him.
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