The day was warm even under an overcast sky and Hilary, uncomfortable, shifted his weight. A cold shiver came over her. Chapter Seven ‘Oh, my God,’ burst from Gerald. He wished he had the time to solve this riddle, for it was a riddle, and four-square besides. Her fingers passed over a cunningly wrought surface of wood, with just the correct amount of protrusion, the precise colours of dyed leather, and cleverly gilded surfaces and neatly painted lettering. "Get from under it, Jack!" vociferated Thames. " There had never been, from that fatal hour eight months gone down to this, the inclination to confess.
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