She foraged about in her mind for some satisfying equivalent which would express in English this gurgling drone the Chinese called a language. ‘But my poor Jacques is wounded and—’ ‘All taken care of,’ interrupted Hilary. So she went to Ramage and came to the point almost at once. ‘I think it is better if I hold the pistol. “Who’ll mind the baby nar?” was one of the night’s inspirations, and very frequent. ‘I thought—I thought I saw my—my husband. It was a hoax, it was the only thing possible, until she heard Cathy say, “Let me hold those for you. ‘How in God’s name did the wretched fellow get in then?’ ‘Dug a tunnel?’ suggested Gerald, halting next to a pair of French windows at the front.
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