Something in her tone made him look up. Gerald did not know who she was, but he knew who she was not. Conscientious objectors to that process are not permitted, she found, in Canongate. ‘Whereas my need was very great indeed. The drawers at the moment were too busy to attend to her, and she would have seized the opportunity of examining, unperceived, the assemblage within, through a little curtained window that overlooked the adjoining chamber, if an impediment had not existed in the shape of Baptist Kettleby, whose portly person entirely obscured the view. ‘Espèce de bête,’ she snarled. Suddenly the Wastrel took hold of the edge and flung the table aside.
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