For the first time, perhaps, in his life, he repented of his brutality. They went first to a hotel, and then out again on to the boulevards. Better come another morning. The slack cloth of her habit caught on a curlicue in the carved back of the pew in front, pulling her suddenly about. ‘I’m only a poor country wench, child. I’ll have to wait here, of course, which means you, Hilary—’ ‘Will have to do tomorrow’s patrol. Montague Hill was taken for the millionaire once or twice, and I suppose it flattered his vanity. I shall lose my fees and the laced coat.
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