"Let him remain," interposed Trenchard. Voices floated down, but there was no sound of pursuit. Her father was holding her waist, smiling. ‘Brung the lantern, I did, and opened the door again in case you was ready. “Jacques is wounded and we are arrested by this imbecile of a sergeant. But seriously ——” “Well seriously?” “Isn’t it your own fault a little? Why do you not tell me your address, and allow me to call upon you. ’ Grudgingly, the sergeant shifted aside and allowed her access to the stairs, grumbling to her retreating back, ‘If I’d me way, missie, I’d send you back to France where you ought never to have come away from, if you arst me.
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