Marching Sands
"He will claim me. He will keep me Oh, truly, you are blind."
To the Wusun her sudden emotion was a display of the temper that undoubtedly was the heritage of her royal blood.
Mary was, however, on the verge of a breakdown, and sought the shelter of her own room, since she could not see Gray. She hurried hither, with the woman who had waited without the shrine, at her heels. To tell the truth, she fled.
In her chamber she flung herself down on the cushions and gave herself up to a most unqueenly fit of weeping. The woman waited stoically.
When Mary sat up and dried her tears, the woman smiled. Mary's face was wan, and her hair disheveled. Glancing into a bronze mirror that the woman brought her, she was almost glad that Gray could not see her now. Whereupon she fell into reflection, and presently sent the handwoman for brush and black ink-like paint which is the writing fluid of the Wusun
Then she diligently sought for any scraps of white stuff that might serve as paper. She selected her handkerchief, but was forced to place it in a window to wait until it dried.
She watched it in the process, a very sad looking woman, her hands clasped about her knees and her head resting sidewise on her hands.
Meanwhile, the post-meridian shadows were
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