I'll put you aboard The Tigress to-morrow after sundown. She forced herself not to think of John. A delicate flush of colour streamed into her cheeks. She crouched beneath a stump, her extremities twitching as the sun set orange and blue beyond the lace of iron-black trees. He seemed safe from the sickness, having been surrounded by the dying, he had witnessed the carnage up close and yet his health still prevailed. Predictably, Charvill turned on him. A small brickbat was thrown, which struck Jonathan in the face. Annabel was born soulless, a human butterfly, if ever there was one. ‘What, miss?’ asked Jack Kimble from behind her. ‘Left to yourself, my girl, you may not have any affairs. “I don’t understand.
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