John’s father added cheerfully, “So, do you play any violin?” She balked at the stereotype, but admitted, “Yes, I play violin. ‘A spitfire, ain’t she, sir?’ Roding ignored this. For a few moments, Thames regarded the little girl through the half-opened door in silence. ‘I can’t tell you the times I’ve wished for a gun to point at Hilary’s head. But I shan't let him off thus. He wondered why she thought love made people happy, and began to talk of the smilax and pinks that adorned the table. ‘And now,’ he said, drawing Madame to the seat, and contriving to sit close enough that his anatomy touched hers at several points, ‘let us talk about you, madame. By and by the tramp of horses' feet was heard slowly ascending Snow Hill, and presently a troop of grenadier guards rode into the area facing Newgate.
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