" Mrs. ’ ‘So you think she is an émigré?’ Lucilla put in before the incensed Roding could respond. She went to the table under the end window at which she had been accustomed to work, and found it swept and garnished with full bottles of re-agents. Something in his tone pinched her heart. ’ She sniffed and swallowed. For a moment she remained silent. His fingers cherished the hilt of his sword and his eyes were on his friend and superior, ready at his back to do whatever was needed. ’ Even as they watched, a shadow passed across one of the apertures.
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