” A shade of concern darkened Carol Diedermayer’s face. "What is it?" "The night," she answered. "You are my prisoner, Jack. She is a woman chosen in youth for her beauty and her intelligence. If you had lived twenty years ago you would have been called a Young Person, and it would have been your chief duty in life not to know, never to have heard of, and never to understand. He left the room, presumably to sleep elsewhere, but the only other room with a fire was the servant’s quarters. The constable, Sharples, is in my pay. Wood lifted up his hands in mute despair.
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