To even presume a lustful thought about her was to ask for one’s own death. “You are not content then with stealing from me my name. Wood, leaping from the bed. Only last night she saw me, and there was horror in her eyes. A pig, yes, a little. An iron fillet secured the socket of the bolt and the box of the lock to the main post of the doorway. Didn’t I say that this whole business of your camping in Remenham House was the one aspect I could not puzzle out?’ ‘You are very clever, monsieur Gérard,’ she conceded, although Gerald was amused by the grudging note, ‘but in truth it is not yet my house.
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