He learnt that his sister was privately married—the name or rank of her husband could not be ascertained—and living in retirement in an obscure dwelling in the Borough, where she had given birth to a son. They drove up into Paris in an open fiacre with a soft cool wind blowing in their faces, hand in hand beneath the rug. ‘Have no fear,’ he uttered soothingly, reaching out to pat her free hand. And I've already told you the accident was not Jack's fault. You are my wife now and you belong to me. ’ ‘What do you mean?’ ‘You must be got rid of, that is seen.
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