Gerald glanced down and saw her dash at a spread of blood on his own hand, only now realising that her dagger had found its mark. ” “Okay. " "Indeed!" exclaimed the knight, in astonishment. ‘Oh, my God, she’s gone!’ Wrenching his hand from his friend’s slackened grasp, he darted for the door, Roding behind him. Gerald smiled and excused himself with the Poussaint girl, whose mouth pinched together as she threw a dagger glance at the voluptuous Madame Valade. In the recess beside the fireplace were some open bookshelves.
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