Michelle and her father sat in the audience, Diane having chosen to stay home to prepare dinner. The autumn rain had made every surface tacky, the wet seats of painted red picnic tables were avoided. “Tell your sister she was right to shoot, quite right. “I know,” she said quietly, “that Paris, where she has been so much admired, is not a good place for her. At the back of the house, on a bank, rose an old-fashioned terrace-garden, full of apple-trees and other fruittrees in blossom, and lively with the delicious verdure of early spring. Certain simple purposes emerged from the disingenuous muddle of her feelings and desires. Light the lantern. Jack had brought away the bunch of keys which he had taken from Quilt Arnold, but, none of them would open it. Over the mantel, set into an ornately carved panel with fluted columns at each end, was a portrait of a man on horseback. "You'll lose no time," said the thief-taker. "Weigh anchor, Van!" he shouted to the skipper, "and consult your despatches. Michelle walked towards the sloping Victorian stairs.
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