But this was a vicomte’s sister. It was just such a bedroom as she would have chosen for herself. The door was closed— locked,—and the pair were heard descending the stairs. Simply. ‘You ain’t got nothing on me. Then instantly she got out of bed and proceeded to dress. “Can I bring you anything, sir—a whisky and soda, or a liqueur? You’ll excuse me, sir, but you haven’t touched your coffee. Finger to his lips, Gerald pointed in the direction of the noise. F. Seven hundred forty-two dollars and eighty-one cents, the sum total of her money in the world that she hid in a filigreed cigar box shelved behind her schoolbooks. Anna watched her from the windows, watched the carriage jolt away along the cobbled street and disappear.
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