” Ann Veronica picked a cornflower. She had been obliged to spend the night in that fateful bedchamber, the faithful Kimble—who had foraged at a nearby inn, bringing back a large pie and a jug of porter for his mistress—guarding the door outside. I looked upon you from the first as the most promising of my pupils. ‘You know pretty much everything you need to know. The silence of Canton at night was sinister, for none could prophesy what form of mob might suddenly boil out. ” She had a moment of sheer panic at the thing she had done. The old lady clearly read his state of mind, for the apparently irrepressible dimple peeped out. His tone was kind and sympathetic. Pig and brute! Yet calling him hard names would not help her.
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