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The Duke was throwing things out onto the cobbles below her closet window, and they were not faring so well as the furniture, which had been carefully placed on the grass, where it could not be hurt. The jewellery, some of it the Duke’s family stones, were much more costly, but he had thrown them out as though they had been made of paste. As they turned the corner to the garden gate, more items were being thrown out onto the stones. The Duchess saw one of her white muslins go flying, being picked up by the gathering wind and held in the air, until it was tossed against a rose bush, the delicate fabric being torn to shreds.