Gerald’s breath caught. Through the gloom he distinctly perceived the dome of St. Poor Ruth: for a father, a madman; for a husband—a thief! Spurlock rocked his body slightly. Outside stood a stocky, combat boot-clad girl of seventeen with a teased mass of spiky bottle-black hair. Lucy sighed. Her hair had begun to grow back, it now swept to her shoulders. 168 < 20 > HISTORY OF AN ABDUCTION She had not seen him for hundreds of years. He could talk to her as frankly as he could to a man, that she would not take offence at anything so long as it was in the form of explanation.
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