If a cart were coming, or those labourers in the field had heard, escape was impossible. He wore a threecornered hat, a sandy-coloured scratch wig, and had a thick woollen wrapper folded round his throat. Let’s go on climbing now. He grabbed her wrist and prised the weapon from her fingers, ignoring her other hand that clawed at his to try to retain the trophy. The weather harmonized with their feelings. You may go back, Marthe. In the hall below she could hear his firm voice giving quick commands to the servants. Her aunt glanced up startled, and then sat very still, with hands that had ceased to work.
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