’ ‘I thank you,’ Gerald said drily. She was clad in fresh linen, but still wore the riding-habit she had appropriated, having sponged out the spots of blood late last night and left it to dry in the kitchens. It was a neat, efficient-looking room, with a writing-table placed with a business-like regard to the window, and a bookcase surmounted by a pig’s skull, a dissected frog in a sealed bottle, and a pile of shiny, black-covered note-books. ‘Madwoman,’ he screamed back, as he climbed over the next pew, eyes darting down briefly to check for his sword.
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