At last she glanced at a little clock in the corner of the room, and sprang to her feet. They stopped talking, except to each other. The drawers at the moment were too busy to attend to her, and she would have seized the opportunity of examining, unperceived, the assemblage within, through a little curtained window that overlooked the adjoining chamber, if an impediment had not existed in the shape of Baptist Kettleby, whose portly person entirely obscured the view. His arm closed in around her middle and she was caught. ’ ‘Did no one know, then?’ ‘No, for the vicomte, we learned later, wrote to General Lord Charvill in pursuit of his sister. She was herself conscious of a recklessness of spirits almost hysterical.
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