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He continued thoughtfully. "But, as I was saying, I was most dreadfully frightened on the night of the robbery! Though so young at the time, I remember every circumstance distinctly. The day is already half over. His name was Peter. There is so little abandon, so little real joyousness. In fact, Gerald had given order to the coachman to drive out of Golden Square and then stop around the corner. His tone was rough, almost threatening. He was—a millionaire. ‘You mean that his missus is pretending to be my mistress? Lord-a-mercy!’ ‘Precisely. I tried. She licked his neck, which put him over the top. ‘A man who is false, who steals papers, who has a plot to take another’s name, who lies to the Mother Abbess and to me, and above all this—’ her voice near to breaking ‘—one who is French. He had this thing for his twin daughters. Send you the shirt.
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