‘At least I couldn’t say for sure. To-night she had a curious feeling that she stood upon the threshold of some change. “Who the hell are you, Lucy?” “Promise me you will never tell anyone. “If I am,” he answered, reddening, “you can scarcely assert that it is without a cause. ‘But what is it that amuses you, Jacques?’ Kimble’s grin spread wider. You know my fixed determination. The thought passed through his mind even as he started to cross the terrace at a jogtrot, moving to head her off. The door opened. “Who can tell?” she said. “Not possible. She gave me an impression of a sort of patched quilt; little bits of patterned stuff coming up again and again.
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