” She breathed relief. “If my own mother was alive,” sobbed Ann Veronica, “she would understand. A young lad—Roding took him for a footman, or a groom by the neat black garb—was halted some paces away from Valade, his hat in his hand as he made pretence of fanning himself. Last night there had been no time. The guests congregated within the night-cellar were, in fact, little better than thieves; but thieves who confined their depredations almost exclusively to the vessels lying in the pool and docks of the river. Then, I thought, she has repented, all will be well.
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