Also, you must send someone to fetch my horse—at least, it is not mine but I have borrowed it to come here—because it will be dark very soon and—’ ‘Woof! Hold it, hold it,’ begged the sergeant. Half French. Michelle’s eyes widened. Anna stood on the step and looked up and down the street for a hansom. At any rate, it would be good to hear him saying the sort of things he did—perhaps now she would grasp them better—with this world-shaking secret brandishing itself about inside her head within a yard of him. He hadn't followed this angle of thought in ten years: what he might have been, with a little shrewd selfishness. In a moment they were in the street outside.
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