And the woollen-draper departed. Wild in his own domain. “It’s still a marvel to me that we are to be forgiven,” she said, turning. ‘Damnation! Too late. She turned towards the door, and had taken a pace towards it when it was flung open. Didn’t I say that this whole business of your camping in Remenham House was the one aspect I could not puzzle out?’ ‘You are very clever, monsieur Gérard,’ she conceded, although Gerald was amused by the grudging note, ‘but in truth it is not yet my house. Her commander, Rykhart Van Galgebrok, is devoted to my interests. To-morrow they will all be contradicted.
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