Here he found another strong door, making the fifth he had encountered. "A thousand pounds," he observed, gloomily, "is a heavy price to pay for doubtful secrecy, when certain silence might be so cheaply procured. He dared not go on. She smiled. He wondered if the young fool had any idea of what he had drawn in this tragic lottery called marriage. Lucy turned and faced the strawberry blonde behind her, gesturing rapidly with a folded origami triangle, evidently the newest form of note. Poor little one. Then for the first time she was conscious of an unaccountable and terrifying sensation. The spy—if there was one hiding out in the late Jarvis Remenham’s empty house—would be taken unawares. She was practically destitute of jewellery. For a time he would be the grim Protestant Flagellant, pursuing the idea of self-castigation. Seeing provisions in the window, Jack ventured in and bought a loaf.
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