ToC London, at the period of this history, boasted only a single bridge. "Zounds!" cried Kneebone, furiously. At this juncture, Sir Cecil and his followers appeared at the threshold. “YOU wouldn’t like to be independent?” he asked, abruptly. He led her unerringly, pushing her down the narrow stairway that had been the servants’ access to the upper floors, and thence through a small door that led into the chapel. ‘What a fate he finds for me. Well, one must hope, that was all. She was almost tempted to tell him, if only to see the cracks of surprise and incredulity break the immobility of his yellow countenance.
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