It was never intended that I should marry Monsieur Valade, but after the tragedy—’ her eyes darkening in genuine distress ‘—and that he was the only survivor, he came to me in the convent and married me, and brought me to England. Gerald did not know who she was, but he knew who she was not. No more did she offer her forehead for the good-night kiss. Ms. Wood, regarding her husband with a glance of vindictive triumph. ‘Would you care for some refreshment? A glass of wine, perhaps?’ ‘Nothing, merci, I do not remain,’ she answered, although she did not rise.
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