She knew it was dangerous to be seen with the spy, but she paused before exiting anyway. Part of her felt like fleeing the theater, fleeing London, and never coming back. The Widow had just reiterated all Sir Northrop had said at Lord Aldon's ball: Sarah was to find evidence, convince Valère to propose again, and she should have done it all yesterday. She was not working fast enough, and Sir Northrop was becoming impatient. The Widow was impatient as well, but there was something more. Sarah glanced back at The Widow to confirm her suspicions. The woman was frightened. How else could Sarah account for her strange behavior? Moments ago, The Widow had suddenly clutched Sarah's hand tightly and hissed, "Be careful. Trust no one." Sarah had frowned and tried to loosen the woman's grip on her hand. "I understand." "No, you don't," The Widow said, still hissing. "Trust no one." Sarah frowned, her heart beginning to pound in alarm. "What does that mean? What's happened?" "I can't tell you here." She peered over her shoulder, checking once more that they were alone.
