" "Do you mock me?" cried Jack, levelling a pistol at him. “Sit down,” he said, and perused—“perused” is the word for it—for some moments. ‘Hollow. Presently he heard her voice. \"So did I. "I love her already. And if he won’t—” But she did not give even unspoken words to the alternative at that time. ‘I am fascinated. It got on my nerves—the women I saw. ‘Your wife?’ ‘My wife,’ he repeated, rising also, his smile mocking her. With a rustle of her full lilac petticoats, Miss Froxfield turned back to Alderley. Her long incarceration at the convent in Blaye had taught her to be dismissive of her own appearance. ‘Sergeant Trodger is who I am. And the jailers also retired.
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