He was perched on the very edge of the leather seat of the coach, his threecornered hat twisting nervously in his hands, and from time to time he passed a tongue over dry lips. ‘I’ve never before made love at pistol point. Her mouth was an effective tourniquet. Jack submitted to this scrutiny with a very bad grace, and vehemently protested his innocence. To them all I am nothing. ‘One of your countrymen, perhaps?’ The girl clammed up, the moon of her white face staring up at him in the darkness. And I've already told you the accident was not Jack's fault.
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