She had hardly noticed the loss of her dagger, so strong had been the waves of relief that attacked her on hearing that Jack had returned from death’s door. As she danced there was in her ears the faded echo of wooden tom-toms. She dare not risk it. ” She smiled artificially as she scanned the audience and located John. ” “Sure, anything you want. He himself, middle-aged, steeped in traditions of the City and moneymaking, very ill-skilled in all the lighter graces of life, as he himself well knew, could yet come to her invested with something of the halo of romance by the almost magical powers of an unlimited banking account. There was little more here than a sideboard, a chest for the vestments, and a simple wooden chair. His eyes never left her face.
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