’ Grudgingly, the sergeant shifted aside and allowed her access to the stairs, grumbling to her retreating back, ‘If I’d me way, missie, I’d send you back to France where you ought never to have come away from, if you arst me. But—but how?’ ‘Can you write?’ Gerald asked, digging into one of his capacious pockets and bringing out a leather ring purse. ” She looked up at him quickly. She was no longer a confederate in that. ’ ‘Because I was a servant in the vicomte’s house? Things have changed. She would write to Gerald. \" She cooed into his ear, stroking his chest hair. “We parted— that night the best of friends. “What do you want to go out here for, Lucy?” He 217 asked. The expression, however, which would chiefly have interested a beholder, was that of settled and profound melancholy. The old aspect of the place was gone. But in this posture he fared worse than ever. But I'd a mind to try whether you really loved him as much as you pretended.
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