’ Lucy was silent for a space, once again wearing that inscrutable expression. ’ ‘I was called in, ma’am, to catch a French spy—at least, that is what Pottiswick thought. As his death was by no means what Jonathan desired, he resolved to remove him to a more airy ward, and afford him such slight comforts as might tend to his restoration, or at least keep him alive until the period of execution. So, instead, they talked of dancing and what it might mean in a human life. ‘And if not her, for she is dead, then me. Nothing at all. Lady Ferringhall listened, and her cheeks grew pale.
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