Miss Stanley hesitated, and took first one and then another of the constituents of this costume off its peg and surveyed it. 9. Brendon looked across the room at her thoughtfully. Her eyes noted it mercilessly. The warm September sun fell strongly on this part of the grounds, uninterrupted by trees, its light bouncing off the glass in the mansion’s walls. ‘No, my poor guardian,’ Gerald mocked. I shall not let you go till I am quite sure. She stared down at them from a high window, peering down at their moonlit faces in the bed heavy with furs, the same bed where she had given birth to Gianfrancesco’s dead son.
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