Something in his tone pinched her heart. ‘You mean—’ ‘Hilary!’ Lucy turned excited eyes back to Alderley. "Who isn't it like?" he asked, endeavouring to gain possession of the drawing, which, af the sound of his footstep, she crushed between her fingers. It had been brighter than the rest, for dawn light had come in through high unshuttered casements above the bookshelves. Against the walls hung an assortment of staves, brown-bills, (weapons then borne by the watch,) muskets, handcuffs, great-coats, and lanterns. All her protests seemed stifled before she could find words to utter them.
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