He cupped her small hands in the bowl of his large ones and reassured her in the kindest manner, saying, “You will have the finest life that Florence has to offer. He was not there. Be silent, I say, if you value his safety. But at last this ordeal was over, and Ramage opened the door. ’ ‘How do you do?’ Gerald said pleasantly, stepping from the pillared portico and coming down the shallow stairway. She felt scrawny, lanky, badly dressed in a baggy black T-shirt, sweaty, not at all beautiful; not even pretty. The slim knife was wrested from her grasp, and she was flung backwards, towards the bookcases.
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