"A bad business this, Van," observed Baptist, with a prolonged shake of the head. She felt she must get him talking upon some impersonal theme at any cost. He swore that I was his wife, and—I shot him, Nigel, as his arms were closing around me. Me—I’m nothing but a country wench, and one who went to the bad. Wary they might be. “Isn’t that rather a strange question—under the circumstances?” he asked quietly. Remember! not a word!" So saying, he huddled the mantle over Wood's shoulders, dashed the lantern to the ground, and extinguished the light. His vision was becoming accustomed to the faint light now and her features were clearer. ‘I’m determined to find out all about you, mademoiselle. ‘Certainly no one will find it. She makes catty comments about you to her friends if you are within hearing distance—that’s her thing—then if you are brave enough to confront her, she just denies it all and laughs at you.
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