‘How could you possibly know it?’ ‘I know it,’ Lucilla told him frostily, ‘because Dorothée told me that Madame Valade went off with Gerald positively purring in her ear—which is a thing he never does—and came back with him looking like the cat after cream. I’ve a dread of love dropping its petals, becoming mean and ugly. Both the fugitive and his chasers embarked on the Thames. Rhea laughed and lunged for the broadsword that Sebastian had carelessly left lying on the ground. Certainly I cannot kill you if you tell me to do so.
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