The sun was rising, illuminating the trees in black as if they were drawn in ink. He looked at his port wine as though that tawny ruby contained the solution of the matter. ‘You escape from your own convent, at great personal danger. “I saw his face in a mirror. He was twenty-nine at the time, practically an old man. Jonathan had not deceived him. Here and there, patches of flesh adhered to the bones, and the dank dripping hair hanging about what had once been the face, gave it a ghastly appearance. Flinging her back against it, she put her hands out, barring his way. ’ ‘Yes, but I need a word with Gerald,’ protested the captain, hanging back. ’ ‘Remenham House,’ exclaimed Trodger, who had been watching this interchange open-mouthed. Annabel had spoken calmly enough and steadily, but his brain refused at first to accept the full meaning of her words.
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