“I should imagine,” he said, shaking out a copy of The Times, “that it is your brain which is addled. I would be the kidnapper, of course, but we would forge ransom notes and exchange monies so that it appeared you were taken by brigands or plotters against the Iovelli family. You were afraid of me, afraid that I should have been shocked, afraid of the scandal. Cocked hats and buckled swords spoke of rank. “I should like to speak to you for a few minutes,” he said to Anna, dropping his voice a little. “Have you not missed me?” He inquired.
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