And now, Sir Rowland," he continued, turning to the knight, "to our own concerns. Her hand came up and she laced her fingers with his. God would have taken mercy on her baby, seeing that she had already had too much pain and that he had taken her beloved mother. She had been so busy with life that, for a vast gulf of time, as it seemed, she had given no thought to those ancient, imagined things of her childhood. But when he looked again, there she was! "I don't understand," he said, finally. When I've escorted you proud fool to his new quarters, I'll proceed to the Mint and look after Jack Sheppard. She practiced swaddling on a doll, pretending to pat the head of her imaginary infant boy.
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