"Where's Thames?" he hastily inquired. ‘Possibly,’ he said. He flung himself backwards, hit the dais and fell heavily before the altar, losing his low-crowned beaver. Rage flooded her at his intent, but she controlled it. He meant to take her out of this room, perhaps even out of the house. No, not one little bit. “Sebastianus? Where did my husband go?” He smiled at her gently, patronizingly, as he prevented her from movement or escape. Goopes down on him with the lesson Titian teaches so beautifully in his “Sacred and Profane Love,” and became quite eloquent upon the impossibility of any deception in the former. “And I have dragged you all over here for nothing,” she murmured. He was disquieted.
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