She had failed in that, and utterly.
She had been surprised by her worst enemy.

She had been laughed to scorn in the moment of her deepest humiliation, and she had lost the foundations of friendship in the attempt to build upon them the hanging gardens of an artificial love.

In that moment, as they reached the gate, Unorna was not far from despair.
A Jewish boy, with puffed red lips and curving nostrils, was loitering at the entrance.

The Wanderer told him to find a carriage.
"Two carriages," said Unorna, quickly.

The boy ran out.