Fatigued by his previous exertions, and incumbered by his fetters, he was by no means—though ordinarily remarkably swift of foot—a match for his foes, who were fast gaining upon him. Someone bounded up the stairs, which groaned from the strain, unmistakably Mike. The latch came with a weak click. Where the stuff came from was always a mystery. ‘Do you not understand that I can trust no one—no one?’ ‘That is a pity,’ Gerald said, rising to face her. ‘You don’t mind if I sit down?’ She considered him a moment, her head a little on one side.
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