Her sleepless night had left her languid but not stupefied, and for an hour or so the work distracted her altogether from her troubles. Chapter Seven ‘Oh, my God,’ burst from Gerald. Rank ingratitude, I call it. I am your husband, though as yet your hand has scarcely lain in mine. It was a dark mysterious place, and what it was used for no one exactly knew; but it was called by those who had seen it the Well Hole. Marry me. It had showed up at an auction at Sotheby’s after someone had sold it. “This wonderful affection of yours for my sister, does it date from your first meeting with her in Paris?” He hesitated. She ought to have written at once and told him exactly what had happened. It was also cold, and dark, for there had been no time to light the lantern. Spurlock stared at Ruth across the rim of his bowl. ‘I might have killed you,’ she snapped, ‘if only you did not say anything. Why don’t I just go and get the key from Pottiswick?’ Alderley flicked a glance back at him over his shoulder.
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