’ ‘You saw? Where were you? How did you see?’ ‘Your heroic milice are not as clever as they thought. He played for an hour—Grieg, Chopin, Rubenstein, Liszt, crashing music. Lucia watched in fascination as Isobella nodded at her, only three years older than she, nursing her son with a contented smile upon her face. Jack had got into one of the pens at the north side of the chapel. She attended to that, and then dismissed it as unimportant. He was made welcome as McClintock's agent; but he politely declined all the proffered courtesies.
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