"It is not too late to repair the wrong I have done my nephew," cried Trenchard. Following her lead, he fortified himself with a swallow of the excellent Madeira before responding. His voice propelled her to cry even harder, so hard that she began to laugh behind her tears. To perdition with them all. I do not even know his name. ‘But if there is one, how in the world did this mystery lady of yours know of it?’ ‘That, Lucy, is precisely the point that has been exercising my mind,’ Gerald said, turning his eyes once more to the group of French exiles in the alcove. I want her to get forward, to set her among people who'll understand what to do with her.
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