’ While he trod a deliberate path through the pink saloon towards the door, Gerald encouraged a flow of harmless chatter about the people Madame had met and the parties she had attended. His sword-arm fell useless at his side and she knew herself safe. Then he could hear Hilary breathing beside him, and from outside the muted twittering of birds. Her aunt went out of the room with dignity and a rustle, and up-stairs to the fastness of her own room. Time was moving so fast, she could no longer count the days since Gosse had come to her with his preposterous suggestion at the Coq d’Or, where they were staying and where he had robbed her and left her and Martha to their fate. The Plague raced through the city and the Palazzo, consuming it like fire. That is my way, my dear.
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