The spy—if there was one hiding out in the late Jarvis Remenham’s empty house—would be taken unawares. “I cannot but conclude,” he said, “that your errand involved the recital to my wife of some trouble in which you find yourself. She was to be handed over with her dowry of three thousand Florins, plus her pet bird, six chickens, her mother’s fine linens, a small book of poetry. She roves the blue fields of the North, with the clean North Wind on her lips and her blonde head jewelled with frost— mocking valour and hardihood! Out of the West she comes, riding the great ships and the endless steel ways that encompass the earth, and smoke comes with her and the glare of furnace fires—commerce! From the East she brings strange words upon her tongue and strange raiment upon her shoulders and the perfume of myrrh—antiquity! But oh! when she springs from the South, her rosy feet trailing the lotus, ripe lequats wreathing her head, in one hand the bright torch of danger and in the other the golden apples of love, with her eyes full of sapphires and her mouth full of pearls! "With her eyes full of sapphires and her mouth full of pearls. And if she was ever found living in the area like that, homeless, John could somehow find out. ‘But I do not pay this penalty. Give me the chisel, Blueskin. " The hint was not lost upon Wood.
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