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Gerald glanced down and saw her dash at a spread of blood on his own hand, only now realising that her dagger had found its mark. He got off on it. He had not taken many steps when he perceived Quilt Arnold in the upper gallery, with a lamp in his hand. It was all highly intriguing. Half French. Sheppard. ‘You do not believe me?’ ‘I do not. Then, if you weren’t looking, he’d get five feet closer. Or, if this goodlooking young fellow will only say the word, I'll go with him. "It is time!" "For what?" grumbled the latter, rubbing his eyes. Wood's," was the reply. Let me take the satchel, sir. Lucy stood relieved that she had not messed up the solo. Even the children jeer.

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