Jogging down Installation Way in the direction of the Woods Window, Clara thought about Septemberclaver and considered why she did not miss her mother and father. It had not always been thus, but now her parents were forcing her to marry a man from whose touch she shrank, and her mother had planned the wedding at Christmas time. The date was already set. If she refused, her options, her father had explained, were to be brought to the chapel in gold chains or to be sold to TheCity for domestic labor.