"One last embrace. Melusine, used to the stark surroundings of the convent at Blaye, had no complaint to make. The afternoon was her own; but from eight until midnight she sat beside the patient. So presently they got into a hansom together, and Ann Veronica sat back feeling very luxurious and pleasant, and looked at the light and stir and misty glitter of the street traffic from under slightly drooping eyelids, while Ramage sat closer to her than he need have done, and glanced ever and again at her face, and made to speak and said nothing. She heard the sounds of Rhea scuttling about, and then feeding, brutally. Hopefully. The wall of the sky, the wall of the horizon, the wall behind which each human being hid—the wall behind which she herself was hiding! If only her mother had lived, her darling mother! Presently the unhappy puzzlement left her face; and an inward glow began to lighten it. “This isn’t furtive,” said Ann Veronica.
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