The sounds of the seashore infiltrated her dreams as she floated in heavenly bliss of sleep. ’ ‘Excellent,’ Gerald had approved. He knew that tragedy was as blind as justice, that it struck the child and the grown-up impartially. Let’s go up to my room. . . ’ ‘Poor little devil,’ said Gerald, genuinely sorry for her. Then as she lay very still, with her hands clinched and her black hair tumbled about her face, he came still closer and softly kissed the nape of her neck. Still, his robust frame enabled him to hold out. Sanguine they were not. . Stopping before each door, they took up the plates of the locks, examined the ponderous bolts, and were struck with the utmost astonishment at what they beheld. Kneebone's.
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