I swore I would bring your husband to the gallows,—would plunge you in such want, such distress, that you should have no alternative but the last frightful resource of misery,—and I also swore, that if you had a son he should share the same fate as his father. 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. At a turn in the road, he perceived Winifred looking anxiously towards him, and when she discovered him, she waved her hand. Just as they reached the eastern outlet of the churchyard— where the tall elms cast a pleasant shade over the rustic graves—a momentary stoppage took place. And you know all about that shot. Wait, though.
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