“I propose,” Sir John said, “that we pay for our dinner—which we haven’t had— tip the garçon a sovereign, and take a cab to the Ritz. Amid this skirmish Jonathan greatly distinguished himself. 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. All right. He reached for her chin and lifted it up. Their chit-chat stopped when they reached the bench. "I'd lay down my life for yours. She was always the last person to exit after the crowds had stampeded, trailing slowly behind them like dust.
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