“The look on thy deceitful face is reproach enough!” The shock had worn off, and Silvia’s voice cracked with fury. “How dare thee, Gabriel! How long has thee been here, with every facility for writing and communication, and thee sent no word? Had I been a respectable widow, and had thee not separated us from Yearly Meeting and other Friends in Philadelphia—I would have married again, deeply though I mourned thee.” Her voice broke and she breathed audibly, trying to regain her control.

“But no one knew whether thee was dead, detained, or … or what! I couldn’t marry. I was left with nothing … nothing … save that house. A roof over our heads. The army took my goats and trampled my garden, and I sold everything other than a bed and a table. And after that …”

“Chastity,” Gabriel said, in a nasty tone.

Silvia was upright as an oak sapling, fists clenched at her sides and trembling with rage. When she spoke, though, her voice was calm and ringing.

“I divorce thee,” she said. “I married thee in good faith, I loved and comforted thee, I gave thee children. And thee has abandoned me, thee has treated me in bad faith and intend to continue doing so. There is no marriage between us. I divorce and disown thee.”

Gabriel looked completely flabbergasted. Rachel understood that divorce was possible between Friends but had never known anyone who had done it. Had such a thing really just happened in front of her?

“You. Divorce me?” For the first time, anger flushed his face. “If anyone was to declare the union between us void—”

“I did not deceive my spouse. I did not commit bigamy. But I will say that our marriage is ended, and thee has no means by which to prevent me.”

Rachel had edged out of sight in reflex, a palm clutched over her mouth, as though she might exclaim in protest at the scene before her. She was preparing to steal away when Gabriel spoke again.

“Of course, I will keep Patience and Prudence,” he assured Silvia, and Rachel froze. She felt obliged to peek cautiously round the building again, if only to be sure that Silvia’s silence did not mean she’d dropped dead from shock or fury.

She hadn’t, though she had turned slightly, and it was plain from her congested face that only inability to choose among the words flooding her throat was keeping her from speaking.

“I missed them cruelly,” Gabriel said, and from the look on his face, he probably meant it.

“Thee naturally didn’t miss Chastity,” Silvia said, her voice trembling—with rage, Rachel was sure, though from the expression on Gabriel’s face, a mingled look of pity and exasperation, she didn’t think he’d diagnosed his wife’s mood correctly.

“I—do not condemn thee,” he said. “Whether it was … rape, or … or choice, thee—”

“Oh, most assuredly choice,” Silvia hissed. “The choice between spreading my legs or seeing my children starve! The choice thee left me with!”