’ Gerald let out a sigh both relieved and satisfied and repeated the name. ‘But who was he, Gerald?’ ‘A damned condottiere,’ exploded Gerald, forgetting his company. With some difficulty he contrived to raise her to the window, and with still greater difficulty to squeeze her through it—her bulk being much greater than his own. ’ He stared at the point, glanced at the fallen sword imprisoned by her foot, and only just looked back at her weapon in time to see it thrust at him again. “You must tell me the truth, please. 9. Remember that I’ve seen Brewis Charvill, and I’m well aware of your identity. .
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