God send the fellow did turn out to be a spy! Beckoning Roding on, Gerald crept down the corridor towards the source of the swishing he had heard. Gerald? But could he be here so quickly? She hastily dabbed at her eyes, thankful for the darkness that she saw had come on outside unnoticed, dimming the room. If ever she felt fatigue in these long tramps which had already taken her half over London, she never admitted it. She did not have the power of men. He accepted the glass of wine, and bowed. He was halfway across the ballroom, where the dancing had ceased for the musicians to take a well-earned rest, when Roding pounced on him. I shall make no defence.
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