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Brendon felt his arm seized. Annabel shook her head. He was no doubt doing his best to express the attitude of society toward these wearily heroic defendants, but he seemed to be merely rude and unfair to Ann Veronica. “I am under police surveillance,” she said. ‘I have told you, a whip it is nothing. The place was gloomy, with its darkly panelled walls, but it was sparsely furnished. ‘Why?’ ‘Why take me to France? Why trouble himself with me, when so easily he could leave me to this Monsieur Remenham to keep?’ To Melusine’s instant suspicion, Martha bit her lip, drew a breath, and avoided her charge’s gaze. The skies became brilliant; the dry monsoon was setting in.
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