Outside stood a stocky, combat boot-clad girl of seventeen with a teased mass of spiky bottle-black hair. “Please forgive me—for one moment,” she sobbed. ’ ‘How do you know?’ Lucilla repeated, almost as sceptical as her intended spouse. Before many minutes elapsed, he had picked a large hole in the plaster, which showered down in a cloud of dust; and breaking off several laths, caught hold of a beam, by which he held with one hand, until with the other he succeeded, not without some difficulty, in forcing out one of the tiles. ” She controlled a sob.
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