’ ‘What?’ Roding’s glare tried Gerald’s control severely, but he pursued his theme unheeding. Finding it impossible to descend on any side, without incurring serious risk, Jack resolved to return for his blanket, by the help of which he felt certain of accomplishing a safe landing on the roof of the house in Giltspur Street. There he paused again, half turning his back and pretending to look for someone among the soldiers on the benches. This was good. Anna, quitting her chair, dropped on her knees by her sister’s side and took her hand. Rain pounded the tin roof, and waterfalls obscured the pavilion into its own private 91 chamber. Her steps slowed.
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