I knew where I would go next: Florence. I waited for them to get right out of the grounds. Her mind invoked her husband, who she imagined lying dead in a ditch somewhere, tortured and killed by brigands or perhaps eaten by creatures like herself, a fate he actually deserved. It was a purse. That is, if Spurlock had been throwing money about, which was more than likely. Not Trodger. Inside was Anna, leaning a little forward to watch the passers-by, bright-eyed, full to the brim of the insatiable curiosity of youth—the desire to understand and appreciate this new world in which she found herself. Trenchard glanced at the document. ‘Too late by the time I realised to what a dunderhead I’d pledged my friendship.
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