‘You! Have you pen and paper?’ ‘Pen and paper now, is it?’ grumbled the old man as he shuffled down the hall. The last thing that she remembered was her eyes crossing as she tried to focus upon the crunch of leaves as she lay heaving upon them, dampening them further with the outpouring of her sweat as it leaked from her clothing. 8 or 1. How would it serve Nicholas to keep the truth from his daughter? A tiny thread of disquiet troubled him. He fixed it. The lad had just barely jangled it, when hurrying footsteps could be heard inside.
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