Gosse had come to Blaye, so he had said, feeling it his duty as the vicomte’s erstwhile secretary to deliver the fateful tidings, bringing with him one of the servant girls, Yolande, who had also escaped the fury of the mob. Ann Veronica’s universe, which had never been altogether so respectful to her as she could have wished, gave a shout and whirled head over heels. ‘She won’t confide in you? Now, why?’ ‘Because that scoundrel Leonardo drummed it into her head that no man was to be trusted,’ Gerald announced viciously. A glance sufficed to show the young man how matters stood. Here we are absconding, pretending to be what we are not; shady, to say the least of it. Martin came to the door, looking radiant and relieved. Blood and bone, body and spirit, she is selfish through and through.
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