“Mr. Gerald glanced down and saw her dash at a spread of blood on his own hand, only now realising that her dagger had found its mark. It seemed older than Rome, and the stone covering it gave resistance. One can't help being jealous, you know, even of an unworthy object. ‘What mischief?’ ‘I don’t know, but I’ll go bail you’re at something. It ought never to have begun. His perseverance was amply rewarded. But it was almost choked up with fallen stacks of chimneys, broken beams of timber, and shattered tiles. He could not make good his hold.
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