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Ann Veronica looked down at her fingers on the claret-colored table-cloth. ‘What is the matter?’ ‘Is there nothing you do not know?’ she asked faintly. ‘He don’t mean you no harm. They will find me dead, yes. There's my thumb upon it. Following his guide, Sir Rowland found himself in a large and lofty apartment, the extent of which he could not entirely discern until lights were set upon the table. She then opened Lucy’s meager closet and plucked out a pair of heeled boots usually reserved for weddings and funerals. Mischief bubbled up in her.
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