Unlocking several doors, he came to a dark vault, that would have rivalled the gloomiest cell in Newgate, into which he thrust Thames, and fastened the door. “I should imagine,” he said, shaking out a copy of The Times, “that it is your brain which is addled. Somehow or other his reputation as a hardened and unassailable bachelor had won for him during the last few years a comparative immunity from attentions on the part of those women with whom he had been brought into contact. ‘He can’t be Valade, that’s certain,’ mused Gerald, unheeding. "Because I knew what you wanted me for!" answered Thames firmly. She waited for him to leave the room, and turned back to Gerald. It is for that reason that this novel begins with her there, and neither earlier nor later, for it is the history of this crisis and its consequences that this novel has to tell.
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