The storm burst upon them in its fury. Gently each time Ruth drew down the arms. Jack Kimble stiffened, looking at his interrogator with wary anger in his face. ‘Jacques?’ she called out, forgetting the need for silence. “Hello? She’s like, your girlfriend, not mine. She was perplexed by this, and stood for some seconds in the empty street hesitating, until the appearance of another circumspect woman under the street lamp at the corner reassured her. He noted an ebony cane laid close to hand, which suggested she was able to get about. The lonely widows of robber barons found him irresistible and he was the guest of many a fine table.
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