The vicomte has, he say, enough femmes in his hands. Like a nightmare memory that returned again and again to haunt her. All at once they came to the top, the faded blue sky overhead, and whichever way he looked, the horizon, the great rocking circle which hemmed them in. She fell asleep instantaneously, fatigued from weeks of exhaustion. ‘Maybe not,’ Gerald conceded, ‘but I’m damned if I herald my approach with a lot of unnecessary blundering about in the dark. Lucy aimed the firearm at Rhea’s chest. So saying, he manfully resumed his work; while Wood and Thames quitted the room, and went down stairs.
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