But escape to where? She thought of the ships that sailed from the peninsulas to hot deserts where spices were traded. Kneebone's cheeks glowed with rage, and he set down the wine untasted, while Blueskin resumed his song. Bit priggish, isn’t it? And if he only knew it—so absurd. Brendon’s guests,” she said, “and I scarcely think it would be nice of me to leave him alone with Sydney. “I’m sorry, ma’am, to seem the cause of any disturbance, but this,” he pointed to Anna, “is my wife. Essentially the talk was a mixture of fragments of sentences heard, of passages read, or arguments indicated rather than stated, and all of it was served in a sauce of strange enthusiasm, thin yet intense.
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