Arrived there, their first object was to seek out Davies, by whom they were conducted to the lady's retreat,—a lone habitation, situated on the outskirts of Saint George's Fields in Southwark. Cool and sunny, it seemed that God himself smiled upon that day, the sunbeams streaming through the magnificent arches dustily as the priest murmured in soporific Latin. "These are my terms, Sir Rowland," he added, taking a sheet of paper from his pocket, and pushing it towards the knight. The watcher's intake of breath was sibilant. She had not felt comfortable in his presence from the first, and with Leonardo’s precepts in mind, was loath to trust him. I had not seen the courtyard in many years and I was happy to dream of those times. Then she raised the glass nearer to her lips. It was a duel, you understand, and that is not permitted. Move.
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