’ ‘Fiddle,’ scoffed Miss Froxfield. ‘What do you mean to do with her?’ ‘Just keep her talking, that’s all,’ Gerald said quickly. She shivered, more due to his presence than the changing weather. “If one was free,” she said, “one could go to him. Vitally, she had the letter that proved her identity as a Charvill: the one her father had written to the Abbess when he sent her to the convent. If they had any idea the concerts he had seen, they would have known the quality of her playing. Yes, I think we have thoroughly thrashed that one out.
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