Woman's love of silk is not set by fashion; it is bred in the bone; and somewhere, somehow, a woman will have her bit of silk. Holding a link into the place, which had the appearance of a deep pit, Blueskin noticed a body richly dressed. I imagine that even you must realize that this is of some importance. He led her unerringly, pushing her down the narrow stairway that had been the servants’ access to the upper floors, and thence through a small door that led into the chapel. Another horn now resounded from the further extremity of the thoroughfare; this was answered by a third; and presently a fourth, and more remote blast, took up the note of alarm. “Thank you—for coming,” he said.
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