‘She won’t confide in you? Now, why?’ ‘Because that scoundrel Leonardo drummed it into her head that no man was to be trusted,’ Gerald announced viciously. The late afternoon, en effet. ‘That I do not yet know. I’ve told you that practically already. Jonathan cast a hasty glance around, to see that all was properly arranged for his purpose; placed a chair with its back to the door; disposed the lights on the table so as to throw the entrance of the room more into shadow; and then flung himself into a seat to await Sir Rowland's arrival. ’ Speeding down the two flights of stairs, Gerald mentally thanked God that it was the practice of himself and Roding—in case of emergency, of which this was a prime example—to stable their horses at the posting inns all the way to London. I want you.
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