Either ignorant of the accident, or heedless of it, the foremost horseman pursued his way without even turning his head. "Do not despair, my sweet soul," said Wood, in a soothing tone. All through that brief but measureless space of time during which wonder kept him silent, as fear did her, she cowered there, a limp helpless object. From her stomacher, to which it was attached by a multitude of glittering steel chains, depended an immense turnip-shaped watch, in a pinchbeck case. “She’s sensitive soul, far too sensitive to be married to an ass like Gianfrancesco. She is, in her way, a dear. Sheppard. There was no reason why she shouldn’t be his restrained and dignified friend. Paris is not the place for two young girls. ‘Comment? What do you say?’ Gerald looked down into her face, and found himself touched by the uncertainty he saw there. Spurling, for so was she named, had a warm nut-brown complexion, almost as dark as a Creole; and a moustache on her upper lip, that would have done no discredit to the oldest dragoon in the King's service. Maybe the girl was telling the truth, and then again, maybe she wasn't. "I need not remind you, Sir Rowland, that I am aware you are deeply implicated in the Jacobite plot which is now known to be hatching. What Miss Miniver would have called the Higher Truth supervenes.
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