“You’re wanted for questioning, miss. Retracing his steps, he arrived, without further accident, at the eastern platform of the starling. She had fled back to Florence quite intent on slitting the new bride’s throat. Gerald raised a questioning eyebrow. Then a bit of colour flowed into his sunken white cheeks. He fancied that the turnkeys had discovered his flight and were in pursuit of him,—that they had climbed up the chimney,—entered the Red Room,— tracked him from door to door, and were now only detained by the gate which he had left unbroken in the chapel. "This must be prevented," he added to himself.
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