He succeeded so well that they were almost in Montague Street before Anna stopped short. Happen what might, he could not be in a worse position. There was just time for the girl to raise her arm to chest height and draw it back before Roding seized her. "Where's Thames?" he hastily inquired. A corner could hold the promise of a shelf of dainty crystals, volcanic ices of rainbow colors, or figurines of saints sculpted from horn and bone reenacting their martyrdoms on delicate miniature wooden stages. . "What shall I say? Shall I tell you, or shall I leave you in the dark—as I must always leave her? What shall I say except that I am accursed of men? Yes; I have loved something—her mother.
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