So the talk went on. "Can't you see? I can't hurt her, if … if she cares! I can't tell her I'm a madman as well as a thief!… What a fool! What a fool!" A thief. Chapter Two ‘Our French friends are beginning to form quite a little coterie,’ remarked Gerald, covertly studying the group gathered in an alcove at the other side of Lady Bicknacre’s ballroom. The house was redolent with the smells of cinnamon baking and the stuffed turkey and marinated pork roast. But although startled and clearly afraid, there was no self-consciousness in her gaze and she was standing her ground.
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