She dressed quickly, pulling on white jeans and a red tee shirt. To his relief, Mrs Sindlesham stepped into the breach, grasping her cane and rising painfully from her chair. "I see nothing surprising in it," rejoined Jonathan. Only a few weeks ago there was a bloody battle on the bridge there between the soldiery and the local police. His salvation—if there was to be any—lay in her ignorance of life. "We'll give them the slip yet, and hang that butcherly thief-taker upon his own gibbet. Vitally, she had the letter that proved her identity as a Charvill: the one her father had written to the Abbess when he sent her to the convent. A slow horror was dawning in his fixed eyes. “I doubted my luck, at least. ” She took the pocket-book and looked up at him with a little impulsive movement.
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