My name is Ferringhall—Sir John Ferringhall. Which is why I wasn’t able to see him until today. Nobody regards Constance or Vee as a delicate trifle. The white haze of poison clouded her eyes. It was a hoax, it was the only thing possible, until she heard Cathy say, “Let me hold those for you. She saw his finger pull back on the hammer of the gun and shrieked a warning just as Jack launched himself forward and Gosse turned and fired. ” He looked at Lucy. Cheveney was looking after her, I think, then.
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