’ The couple on the sofa stared at her blankly. ’ ‘Secret passage, is it?’ The sergeant seemed to brighten at this. ” Nigel Ennison looked up with a little start. She was aware of the body of the court, of clerks seated at a black table littered with papers, of policemen standing about stiffly with expressions of conscious integrity, and a murmuring background of the heads and shoulders of spectators close behind her. She rose to the fire to stoke it. For was not Gerald a gentleman? An Englishman, whose services any female—excluding her own self so idiote— would be very happy to have.
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