” He stared at her, trying to guess at the mystery of her thoughts. The chapel was crowded to excess. I also have eyes, and I have seen the picture. Several men and women were piled there like wood, dead, horribly gored. She felt his crotch through his jeans. “I’m not going to kill you, John. “Get me some brandy and my bag. He left the room, presumably to sleep elsewhere, but the only other room with a fire was the servant’s quarters. Yes. What was he doing? What was he thinking? It was less than a day now, less than twenty hours.
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