‘Though we might have done, if a certain addlepated clothhead hadn’t let her get away. He looked at his port wine as though that tawny ruby contained the solution of the matter. ‘How could you possibly know it?’ ‘I know it,’ Lucilla told him frostily, ‘because Dorothée told me that Madame Valade went off with Gerald positively purring in her ear—which is a thing he never does—and came back with him looking like the cat after cream. ‘I want a word with you, my lad. “I think that I shall be the most unpopular man in London. Bodies were piled high in the streets, Sebastian went on rounds and would come back late at night, reporting horrors and robberies, death that came within hours, not days.
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