"So I think," replied Kneebone, again applying to the snuff-box, and by that means escaping the angry glance levelled at him by his companion. "To the best of my belief, Thames Darrell has been murdered by you. Lucy’s guts ached with jealousy and bitterness, building in a knot that twisted in her stomach, rag-like. There she would wander about in the kindly darkness. ‘If it is that your men there are going to arrest us, then why do they not do so?’ ‘Left to myself, I’d let them,’ he replied grimly. God gives us an equal chance; but we make ourselves.
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