’ Upon which, she darted through the library door, galvanising both the sergeant and his two militiamen into action. All four people moved a little nervously into the drawing-room, maintaining a sort of fluttered amiability of sound and movement. She heard her husband’s heavy tread descending the stairs, and the wheels of his carriage as he drove off. In the general survey of the prison, taken in the preceding chapter, but little was said of the Lodge. Gerald glanced down and saw her dash at a spread of blood on his own hand, only now realising that her dagger had found its mark. ‘You had better kill me, mademoiselle, because otherwise I shall end by strangling you. "It is the fiend!" she exclaimed, recoiling.
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