And even she was forced to admit to herself that this last resource of hers was a slender reed on which to lean. She caught her finger in the lock and had to ask him to help pry it out. In one grave, mind. She felt him sometimes at night as he called to her in her dreams. The coachman having received his order, and being offered an extra fare if he drove quickly, set off at full speed. By rights I ought to have arrested her days ago. His face was much handsomer than Gianfrancesco’s, his lips thinner, his brow much more noble and wise. 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.
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