She drank and drank until his body was a lifeless husk, as light as a mannequin, virtually hollow of all but the fluid in his bones. She smiled encouragingly, laying aside her plate and turning her chair from the table. They stood for a moment in the passage and listened. But she wished she could put the thing she had done in some way to them so that it would not hurt them so much as the truth would certainly do. A militiaman came belting down the stairs, another leapt from outside the front door, and a third, stalwart and stolid, came in through the door that led to the rooms to the front of the house. His nose was large but also fine and angular, tapering to a point at the end like a nobleman’s. But that title he would not endure. ’ ‘But Gérard knows.
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