She wondered who the girl might belong to as she patted dirt over the shallow grave. Don't suppose," she added, with a scornful glance at her helpmate, "that I would pay him the compliment of thinking he could possibly be the father of such a boy as you. ” He recovered himself. At the back of her mind, dim and yet disconcerting, was the perception that she herself did not know what she wanted. Chapter Two ‘Our French friends are beginning to form quite a little coterie,’ remarked Gerald, covertly studying the group gathered in an alcove at the other side of Lady Bicknacre’s ballroom. A fresh cool breeze blew in their faces. Monsieur Valade heaved a gusty sigh, and Gerald, with heavy diplomacy and a forced heartiness of manner, turned the subject. Her husband was drinking in the tavern with the other guests. The man was dangerous.
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