Sorry to be so nosy. Spurlock mused over the previous night. Then a bit of colour flowed into his sunken white cheeks. ‘Come, Jacques, mon pauvre,’ she uttered, and reached for the lad again, hardly aware of the muted sounds of running feet and much banging and crashing beyond the secret door. Whenever Jack attempted to speak, he was checked by an angry growl from Abraham; and Thames, though his heart was full almost to bursting, felt no inclination to break the silence. The slow stars circled on to the moment of their meeting. But the wench who tricked me shall bitterly repent it.
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