He paid the cab, and turned to follow her. She had never said anything so horrible to anyone in her life. Set on unravelling her secrets, Gerald pursues every possible clue—much to the indignation of Mademoiselle. Her aunt was blandly amiable above a certain tremulous undertow, and talked as if to a caller about the alarming spread of marigolds that summer at the end of the garden, a sort of Yellow Peril to all the smaller hardy annuals, while her father brought some papers to table and presented himself as preoccupied with them. She shuddered, adding confidentially, ‘You wouldn’t get me in there now, mind. He hanged your first husband. She was slowed down by the icy wind that punctuated itself in screams around houses and trees. That was the only sound he heard. I am going to ask him to finish it. Every inch of the house felt safe to her, small and welcoming.
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