" "Probably not. A town called Foster. She wished that the drive would never end, but it was only three miles after all. She did not see Sebastian turn towards the boy and his family, but every hair on the back of her neck stood up rigidly. He fancied that the whole fabric of the bridge was cracking over head,—that the arch was tumbling upon him,—that the torrent was swelling around him, whirling him off, and about to bury him in the deafening abyss. She might even forgive him. And who knew if the men that Gerald had posted there would follow her to protect her somewhere else? In truth, where were these soldiers? She could not see them, although she assiduously searched the mist-shrouded square from the vantage point of the bay window in the large first floor room which had become her headquarters.
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