The thin stream of blood on which her eyes were fastened with a nameless horror reached almost to her feet. Didn’t I say that this whole business of your camping in Remenham House was the one aspect I could not puzzle out?’ ‘You are very clever, monsieur Gérard,’ she conceded, although Gerald was amused by the grudging note, ‘but in truth it is not yet my house. She moved her hand off of his knee, deliberately slow. She was very pale, and there was a look of fear in her eyes. "The worst house in the neighbourhood—the constant haunt of reprobates and thieves," groaned Wood.
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