"Perhaps," replied Wood, doubtfully. She glanced at him and made a dismissive gesture. All this juncture, a thundering crash was heard against the side of the bridge. She was clad in fresh linen, but still wore the riding-habit she had appropriated, having sponged out the spots of blood late last night and left it to dry in the kitchens. ‘You are related to General Lord Charvill?’ ‘Monsieur le baron, he is my grandpére,’ she confirmed. It has been a real honeymoon trip, Annabel, for I feel that it has given me a wife.
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