‘You have rifled his papers. It was a moment or two before Gerald realised that he could feel the fluttering of her pulse beneath the light touch he had on her wrist, and that her fingers were trembling in his. But it would serve. “Mrs. . The general did what he might to hush it up, and paid handsomely to manage it, I daresay. Abruptly he gripped her wrist. "Quite sorry, my good friend, there should have been any misunderstanding between us," observed the woollen-draper. ‘But what will happen to Lucia? Are we to kill her?’ ‘Of course not. You have all the earmarks of a fugitive from justice.
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