"When in France, I heard from the Marshal that his brother had perished in London on the night of the Great Storm. A dark mass of wreckage, over which hung a slight mist of vapour, lay half in the ditch, half across the hedge, close under a tree from the trunk of which the bark had been torn and stripped. The lamp was not yet lit, and in the dim light he bent forward as though trying to look into her averted face. " "Whom do you mean?" demanded Jackson. I overheard them planning your assassination. “Very sincerely yours, “ANN VERONICA STANLEY. ‘We may have to,’ Gerald answered thoughtfully, staring at the window to one side.
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