“My word holds,” she said. Some part of the stiff vigour of the man seemed to have subsided. You look like a movie star. She tolerated spitballs in her curly hair and had to buy a new backpack when hers was stolen. Doesn’t matter a bit to me. “It has been very kind of you to see me, but I don’t want to sit and talk and use your time any longer. We shall have him on his return. But it was only when that damned scoundrel nearly spitted you in the chapel—’ He broke off and, to her intense satisfaction she saw he was not as much in command of himself as he would have her believe. He did so care for you. ‘Give me my pistol!’ Gerald shook his head, slipping the pistol into his pocket.
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