Lucy sat in the back seat as the trio sped through intersections in the old sedan. To his consternation, she was holding an unwieldy, ugly-looking pistol, all wood and tarnished steel, with both hands about the butt. That a longing of hers should be realized in this strange fashion was difficult to believe: it vaguely suggested something of a trap. The man could put a bullet through her before she could hope to reach any one of them. Not that there had ever been any hope of that. Valade accorded the major’s greeting a brief nod and gave his attention back to St Erme. The thought of their faces, and particularly of her aunt’s, as it would meet the fact— disconcerted, unfriendly, condemning, pained—occurred to her again and again. He was in trouble and she could not help him; that was the ache in her heart. "Rather in the way. Capes flashed to an understanding of her intention, sprang to his feet, and opened the door for her retreat.
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