I get my driver's license tomorrow. I don’t care what divides us. As she hoisted her skirts near her waist, she thought ruefully of the last time she had worn such an elaborate gown, sometime near 1910 when petticoats were still considered hip everyday garb. We were properly married, and the certificate is at my lawyer’s. They are arbitrary and unjust and dogmatic and brutish and lustful. Gerald glanced down and saw her dash at a spread of blood on his own hand, only now realising that her dagger had found its mark. "My limbs feel so light, now that my irons are removed," he observed with a smile, "that I am half inclined to dance. .
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