She would come and sit cross-legged just beyond the bamboo curtain and silently watch him at work. ‘Gérard—’ ‘What now?’ he asked, rife with suspicion. At this point Lucy, in an effort perhaps—foolhardy, in Gerald’s opinion—to pour oil on troubled waters, rose swiftly to her feet and came towards the old man, her hand held out. It was obvious that he had waited for her. “Miss Pellissier,” he said, “these gentlemen are your friends, and therefore they are my friends. I’m a little tired. . He was a thin old man, a wreck in a ruined body, but nothing would induce him to stand in any other way than as stiffly erect as possible like the soldier he had always been, even though he was obliged to lean on his silver-handled cane to do so. ” Annabel’s hand stole into his.
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