The room was reeling, or was it that she was going to faint? She recovered herself with a supreme effort. ‘Alors, now I am also a murderer. Kimble had bedded the animal down at the local inn. He may not know you’re in England, but if he has the smallest knowledge of your character, he must surely be expecting you. She exhaled, feeling the tension drain from her shoulders and arms. She met the keen grey eyes of a clean-shaven man, between forty and fifty, quietly dressed in professional attire. Mere formality. Perhaps because I don’t know. . As soon as he had gained his feet, he glanced round the bare blank walls of the cell, and, oppressed by the musty, close atmosphere, exclaimed, "I'll let a little fresh air into this dungeon. ‘This is insupportable. But he tells them that I am a spy.
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