But prettier still is the dowry that will be mine when we are wed. Your scream is muffled by the sack, but you hope someone may hear you. Moments later, you are slung over a shoulder, carried through bushes, and thrown onto some cushions. The carriage you have been put into moves forward. LOOK Carriage, in the sack Dimly, through the rough weave of the sack, you can see that you are in a cushioned, empty carriage.
Moonlight streams in one partly closed window.
Inside the reticule are a small needle, a small pair of scissors, a loop of elastic, a ball of beeswax, and one length of pink silk thread. You bounce around on the floor of the carriage. THE SACK Taken. The tiny shears slowly cut a long rip in the sack. You slip out of the sack.