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But he has never been near her—never. He had not proceeded far when he was alarmed by the tramp of a horse, which seemed to be rapidly approaching, and he had scarcely time to leap the hedge and conceal himself behind a tree, when a tall man, enveloped in an ample cloak, with his hat pulled over his brows, rode by at full speed. He looked distant, irritated. She fought the inclination for a while, then surrendered. Ann Veronica jumped up to get her the cardtable. On coming to himself, he found he had been wrapped in a blanket and put to bed with a couple of hot bricks to his feet. She felt his crotch through his jeans. Superstition—you knock into it whichever way you turn. ‘You knew her well, Miss Mary?’ Mrs Ibstock turned at the window.
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