“Are you cold?” He asked her, cocking his head to one side like a puppy, so close that the heat of his words warmed her cheek. It was a moment or two before Gerald realised that he could feel the fluttering of her pulse beneath the light touch he had on her wrist, and that her fingers were trembling in his. All at once she realised that Kimble had halted, leaning heavily against the wall. She looked down tassels of his shiny shoes with a scowl. A little within stood a second door, or rather wicket, lower than the first, but of equal strength, and surmounted by a row of sharp spikes.
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