She was carefree. Then she burst into a peal of laughter. He was shifting to reach his own weapon, which had fallen in between the pews at the back. What better way to be rid of him? ‘Jacques,’ she uttered urgently. The original passage, Martha had told her, had led only from an upstairs room to one downstairs. Her shoulders were gripped hard and a familiar voice spoke. Wood fancied he recognised. One reason, perhaps, of his success in this case might be, that having arrested his associate in the dark transaction, Sir Rowland Trenchard, on a charge of high treason, he was favoured by Walpole, who found his account in retaining such an agent. ‘I have a very good mind to do so, imbecile. Sepulchre's clock struck eight. If I could but——” To escape from her thoughts she began to undress, humming a light tune to herself, though her eyes were hot with unshed tears, and the sobs kept rising in her throat. Her face expressed nothing.
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