I didn’t understand. ‘Jacques?’ she called. . There’s hardly a night she doesn’t sneak out of the house. He died in the war. The love-songs of all the ages were singing in her blood, the scent of night stock from the garden filled the air, and the moths that beat upon the closed frames of the window next the lamp set her mind dreaming of kisses in the dusk. Well, that’s the situation. He looked across at Annabel, and he groaned. Much too formal for a cosy chat between old friends. Give this fellow the slip, if you can, Jack. " "There you are, just as I said. The tears were welling over now, but her voice was steady. ’ He thought Roding gave him an odd look, but his next question was already in his head. The Jacobite. ’ ‘I think he only wants to help you, miss,’ offered Jack.
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