Her gaze flickered down to his pistol. The kindly American consul-general had himself taken her to the bank, where her banknotes had been exchanged for a letter of credit, and had thoroughly advised her. "Who—who is the Marquis de Chatillon?" "Your adopted son, Thames Darrell," answered Winifred. ‘Truth is, it’s Gerald who’s put me in the devil’s own temper, ma’am. . ‘What has that to say to anything?’ ‘Nothing at all,’ smiled Lucy nervously. ‘Well, she’d better learn fast if she wants any truck with me. ’ ‘I am afraid that there is,’ Gerald told her evenly. Father and daughter regarded each other warily, each more than a little insecure with the other. But they will also find you. There was something which chilled even him in the cold impassivity of her features.
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