Cathy reached out and touched Lucy’s chin with her two fingers, gently commanding her attention. “I had a visit from Sir John in my rooms,” she said. She wondered who the girl might belong to as she patted dirt over the shallow grave. ‘Am I a fool? Can I blow off a head with a pistol which is not loaded?’ ‘She has a point,’ conceded Alderley, relaxing a little as amusement burgeoned again ‘Ten to one she is a French spy,’ burst from Roding. Piano wire, stained with black rust from the horrible deeds she had committed. “Get out of the car.
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