’ ‘Your husband?’ Gerald tutted. She looked down tassels of his shiny shoes with a scowl. "Adieu, my worthy uncle. Lucy stared like an automaton at Michelle’s unconscious 262 body, revolted at her own actions to the point of shock. Her eyes followed him. Look out, it’s coming. She had been obliged to spend the night in that fateful bedchamber, the faithful Kimble—who had foraged at a nearby inn, bringing back a large pie and a jug of porter for his mistress—guarding the door outside. And, incidentally, check on that unfortunate young fellow Kimble.
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