’ Leaning down, she raised the hem of the petticoat of her habit to reveal a neat little pair of boots on her feet. With this view he struck off into a narrow street on the left, and soon entered a small alehouse, over the door of which hung the sign of the "Welsh Trumpeter. Answering him was agonizing. The business of serving gave Gerald a few moment’s grace, for he was dubious about the effect on an elderly female, not in the best of health, of raking up old memories. ” “The good God!” Anna murmured, herself shaken with fear. Only she hadn’t.
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