Either Sydney or Mr. "You hay'n't hurt your arm, I trust, my dear?" he added, anxiously. ‘Pray you, mademoiselle, can you not—’ ‘No use trying to enlist Lucilla’s aid,’ snapped Roding. Her mind wandered back to that fateful day. She exhaled, feeling the tension drain from her shoulders and arms. She threw out a hand to stop herself from cannoning into them and, losing balance, tripped over her own petticoats and fell to the carpeted floor, her hat falling off as she did so. “When it comes there is no mistaking it.
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