‘Yes, ma’am,’ agreed Gerald with a grin. Fool that I was to marry for beauty! I ought to have remembered that a fair woman and a slashed gown always find some nail in the way. “We’ve never known anyone who can play like you, Lucy. Ennison, if at all,” Anna declared calmly. We’ve brought a carriage to take you back to London, and I’ve settled with Trodger, who has just given me a coherent account of the affair. A stout female stood in the aperture, an oil lamp in her hand. Mercifully, the Peters had moved to Rhode Island about six months after the tragedy. He squatted and threw his arm around the backs of her knees. “This is all rot!” he declared angrily.
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