‘Why does this person say you are mad?’ ‘Because I am risking having my head blown off,’ Gerald answered cheerfully. He stood there, large and dark, enunciating, in his clear voice from beneath his large mustache, clear flat sentences, deliberately kindly. ‘Besides, I don’t want the men blundering in here and frightening off our spy. If she’s over, he probably knows all about it. Hurt beyond what he could imagine by the selfishness and pride of her forbears, whose fateful disputes had robbed her of the life she should have led, the plucky little devil had taken matters into her own hands. Lost, stolen, or strayed, the Young Person!. ‘Is she the Frenchie we’ve been watching for then, sir?’ The lady’s furious features turned on this new target.
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