’ He nodded. “I had no idea that it was so abominably late. You’re dealing with me now, not Gerald. The truth was impossible, indecent. Standing before a mirror set on a dresser between the windows, two hands frozen in the act of adjusting a wide-brimmed hat on her head, stood a lady in a dark riding habit, her startled features turned towards the door. "You are no longer Thames Darrell," she said, casting her eyes rapidly over it; "but the Marquis de Chatillon. Presently he felt motion. Don’t say the wretch was also following Valade. Enough to let her find out a piece of information most urgent. Far too old to ask you on your first date.
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