"I've lost my wager. She was not quite clear how she should find it, but she felt she would. "Her blood be upon her own head, then," replied Rowland, sternly. Where her husband saw only two youngsters in the mating mood, she felt that tragedy in some phase lurked in this room—if only in the loneliness of these two, without kith or kin apparently, thousands of miles from home. He looked like a French boy soldier she had once glimpsed marching towards his death in one of the battles they would later call the Hundred Years War. "Hell's curses!" muttered Jonathan between his teeth; "that fool will ruin all.
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