But I don’t suppose you can understand. Mary Remenham had passed on her every feature to the daughter whose advent had taken her from this world. No police officers or lurking storms were anywhere in sight. "The gentleman is a stranger to me, Poll," replied the woollen-draper, with increased embarrassment. Did he intend to kill her now, this instant? Or had she a moment or two to try to save herself? Recalling Leonardo’s dictum, she did not struggle, for that would only tighten the trap about her, and perhaps even spring it. Her English was halting. ’ ‘For God’s sake, don’t accuse her of murder,’ begged Gerald, retrieving the lady’s hat and handing it to her, ‘or she’ll be challenging me to a duel again. Awkwardly, he closed his eyes and fumbled for a kiss. She dare not risk it.
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