He embraced her like her father once had. He leaned forward, and looked into the eyes of the woman he loved, and it seemed to him that she sang back to him with a sudden note of something like passion breaking here and there through the gay mocking words which flowed with such effortless and seductive music from her lips. ‘Would you like me to enquire for your mystery lady, Gerald? I know the Comte and Comtesse de St Erme quite well. Yes; she had heard the music the night before. All RNs were familiar with blood stains. Something happened down there, and probably I'll never know what. . . ‘Damnation!’ Confused, he released her, and in an instant she had darted away and was running down the garden. He led her unerringly, pushing her down the narrow stairway that had been the servants’ access to the upper floors, and thence through a small door that led into the chapel. We must wash out those stains up stairs, and burn the cloth. He drove her home that night, kissing her again and again at stoplights. And you need not fear that I shall not give back the sword when I have finished using it. Are you sure what it is you want of me?” “I want you.
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