She was fiercely and bitterly jealous. Automatically, she glanced at the slight red graze left on her neck that marked the point where Gerald’s sword had nicked her. A few words passed between him and the thief-taker as the latter came up; after which, all the party—with the exception of Quilt, who was left on shore —embarked within the wherry, which was pushed from the strand and rowed swiftly along the stream—for the tide was in its favour—by a couple of watermen. I am determined to fight my own little battle with the world —there must be a place for me somewhere, and I mean to find it. We dine at seven-thirty.
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