He stepped back further. They walked in silence. He could imagine it even if he could not feel it. “I ought to look up Gwen,” she said. The thought had not even occurred to him. What do you think, Annabel?” “I don’t think they would,” she admitted. The man’s passion was infectious. Not with the unavoidable explanations, and the need to secrete the sword and hide it before returning the priest’s horse to its stable—which had been her excuse for running from Martha’s protestations. So says your capitaine. Here we are. I’d rather starve!” For a moment the conversation hung upon that declaration. 7.
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