James Figg was the most perfect master of self-defence of his day. Ann Veronica, with a sigh at the cost of hospitality, made a hasty negotiation for an extra tea and for a fire in the groundfloor apartment, and preened herself carefully for the interview. ‘It looked to me as if he was playing games with Madame Valade,’ Lucilla said frankly. It did not occur to her that save for some accidents of education and character they had souls like her own. She turned to Lucilla, a plea in her face. The house was eerily silent, which alerted her to the idea that someone might be listening. ’ ‘Prudence,’ repeated Gerald unguardedly.
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