’ ‘Ain’t it? Want me to give you some time with her? Not that I think she’ll tell you anything. The Jacobite daws want a scarecrow. From the opposite corner under the trees a man with his hat slouched over his eyes stood and glowered at them. ’ She gestured at his hand, on which Roding’s makeshift bandage had been replaced by a more efficient one. She was perhaps three-and-twenty, and very pink and healthy-looking, showing a great deal of white and rounded neck above her business-like but altogether feminine blouse, and a good deal of plump, gesticulating forearm out of her short sleeve. ‘In the bookroom, sir,’ answered the man, his eyes round as they took in the furious beauty at the visitor’s side.
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