Her companion was a portly handsome man, also dressed in a full suit of the deepest mourning, with the finest of lace at his bosom and wrists, and a sword in a black sheath by his side. His eyes looked a little bloodshot to her; his face had lost something of its ruddy freshness. A moment before he had been a strong man, she had been in his power, a poor helpless thing. “It’s a way of avoiding explanations. “I didn’t understand, Vee. It depresses one, you know. ‘He arst me to find him someone who might go with you.
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