‘Come along. For that my father so stupide was in love with this Suzanne Valade, is it not?’ ‘Well, miss,’ temporised Mrs Ibstock, ‘we didn’t rightly know that then. ’ She was silent for a space, and it was evident that this part of the story was still too painful to be recalled with ease. Blue haze had settled beyond the black silhouettes of trees, graduating to the deep violet that began the night sky. It was the very spot from which his poor mother had gazed after her vain attempt to rescue him at the Mint; but, though he was ignorant of this, her image was alone present to him. ’ Jack blinked.
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