"What is it?" he heard himself question. "Is something wrong, Ginny?"

"We must go someplace where we can talk," she replied in a voice above a whisper. "It's terribly important to you, Antoine…"

"What is it?"

"We can't discuss it here," she insisted, "too dangerous."

"But… I don't understand…"

"Wait…" she said, turning slowly, her loose little smile returning once more as she pretended to look dazedly across the room. Then, he felt her hand tightening on his arm, and she said: "Look, they're leaving the room… now we can slip out…"

Antoine watched his Uncle leading Madeleine toward the central hall and felt a moment of confusion. "Where the devil are they going?"

"Probably to the front sitting room," Ginny lied. "There're some guests in there, too. Please, now come with me."

She gave him little chance to refuse, ushering him by the arm through the doorway that led to the servants' corridor and back toward the playroom.

"Look, Ginny… I don't understand," Antoine said, resisting, but not enough to slow her anxious pace. "What's so damned important that we couldn't talk about it back there?"

"Plenty, darling," she half-whispered as they entered the near-darkened playroom and she closed the door quietly behind them. "In fact, I'm not going to tell it all to you here, either. It's too dangerous… could even mean my neck…"

"Your neck? Good God, what're you trying to say, girl?" he snapped, his accent broadening his English in irritation.

Ginny Novak eased in close to him, both hands suddenly clutching at the muscles of his arms. She looked up into his face, her own expression one of taut seriousness. "Listen to me," she almost hissed, her lovely eyes probing the depths of his own irked and questioning ones, "that filthy uncle of yours is working at hanging you. And unless you do something about it awfully damned quick, it's going to be too late."