White leaned forward in her chair with an anxious smile designed to throw oil upon the troubled waters. “Who do you think cares for your children as you dally with my husband, Clotilde?” Lucy asked. Gerald smiled and crooked his elbow. The oaken beam, nine inches in thickness, was now the sole but most formidable obstacle to his flight. He rolled onto his belly, freeing himself from her hands, pushing her away. " "What for? What do you want of them?" "Why, they are … yours. Her eyes flashed and she withdrew the dagger, pulling away from him. Think! Had you not better hurry back before Sir John discovers? You are his wife right enough.
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