Little did I imagine at the time that it was my own father to whom he referred. A dark mass of wreckage, over which hung a slight mist of vapour, lay half in the ditch, half across the hedge, close under a tree from the trunk of which the bark had been torn and stripped. As soon as she noticed the stranger, she honoured him with an extremely impudent stare, and scarcely endeavoured to disguise the admiration with which his good looks impressed her. ‘As for your dagger—’ She held out her hand palm up, as if she expected him to give her the weapon. ‘I am not a person, Marthe. Wily little devil she is.
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