She heard the rats scattering across the stone as dirt fell into the crypt. Then she sat down—uninvited— and looked from one to the other curiously. He was sitting back from the table now, with one arm over the back of his green chair and the other resting on the little table. ‘Don’t rightly know how you make that out, you being a French spy and a prisoner and all. At noon the doctor himself arrived. ‘Gérard will think that I have gone back to London. But he does not come to see me since three days, even that these are my affairs and one could think that he would tell it to me if there is news, no?’ ‘When he has news to tell he will come, child, trust me,’ the old lady assured her.
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