‘I do not know how you think you may help me,’ she said slowly. " "A child!" thought Wood; it must be the fugitive Darrell. ‘Whither away, mademoiselle?’ he said grimly, ungently grasping her arm above the elbow. Her gown was minimalist compared to those concoctions of boning and lace of long ago, she reflected, but that did not stop it from getting caught on 134 brambles and twigs. He could talk to her as frankly as he could to a man, that she would not take offence at anything so long as it was in the form of explanation. "Now, Sir, I'll trouble you for your coat.
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