At night she would turn it in her fingers like a rosary bead. ‘Well, I can see you won’t let it alone, so what do you propose to do about the wench?’ ‘I’ll die before I let it alone,’ Gerald vowed. ” “It must be most uncomfortable here. Capes?” she heard her aunt saying. . No one had lived here since old man Remenham had died some eighteen months ago, for the heir, so it was rumoured, was a relative with property of his own. And when she went to sleep, then always Capes became the novel and wonderful guest of her dreams. “The bravest of us have joints in our armour. You won't refuse me, I'm sure; so no more need be said about the matter.
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