" "You are right, Sir," said the worthy carpenter, rising. ’ Abruptly, the niggling doubt that had been plaguing Lord Charvill came sweeping to the surface. "Ah! Terry O'Flaherty!" he cried, shouting after the Irishman, who took to his heels as soon as he found his murderous attempt unsuccessful; "you may run, but you'll not get out of my reach. ” His face darkened. . " "I'd never set eyes on you again. . Look at me. ’ ‘Damn you, I should have beaten you,’ Gerald swore, holding fast to his corner of the little square of linen. Slowly, he drew back his head and looked into her face. It was locked.
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