Gerald glanced down and saw her dash at a spread of blood on his own hand, only now realising that her dagger had found its mark. ‘Point it at me. "Certainly not," replied Gay. “Oh, that. ” 209 Clotilde was no fool. ‘Why do you think I told you about the portrait? I’d not seen it, of course, but I’d seen Miss Mary just before she got married, which is when it was painted. Fatigued by his previous exertions, and incumbered by his fetters, he was by no means—though ordinarily remarkably swift of foot—a match for his foes, who were fast gaining upon him. ‘Mary was indeed naïve, but there I should say the similarity ends. Once she heard him mutter, and she leaned down. From the second descended Mr.
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