He could not possibly lunge in the confined space, and so had nothing to do but back himself into the chapel as fast as he could. The strong potation he had taken, combined with fatigue and anxiety he had previously undergone, made him oversleep himself, and when he awoke it was just beginning to grow light. He dodged the boot this time, and smashed his left upon the Wastrel's lips, leaving them bloody pulp. Peste, where was her handkerchief? She remembered then that it had been lost in the struggle with Gerald. Sir John, who was standing outside, looked past him at the girl still sitting in the shadow.
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