’ ‘I don’t even know your granddaughter, ma’am. Spurlock understood that his vantage would be temporary; the Wastrel had been knocked down, not out. She was to be a Corsair’s Bride. Had he been trying to stop the grim descent, and had he dimly perceived that perhaps a fine deed would serve as the initial barrier? A drunken idea—a pearl in the midst of a rubbish heap. “The next question, Miss Anna,” he said, “is how am I to help you? I am wholly at your disposal. Have you anything to ask me?” Ann Veronica readjusted her mind hastily. .
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