I sit back now, letting life slip by and musing upon it; and I find my loneliness sweet. She stared down at them from a high window, peering down at their moonlit faces in the bed heavy with furs, the same bed where she had given birth to Gianfrancesco’s dead son. He smiled. “Read this, John. And as for not knowing me, you abominable little liar, you’re perfectly aware that we met at Remenham House. It isn’t such fun as it seems. Captain Roding either did not know, or did not remember that she had it. These fellows must be right,” he added thoughtfully, “and yet—there’s a mystery somewhere.
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