But, as soon as he perceived who it was, he roused himself, and glared fiercely at the intruder from under his bent brows. Everywhere I went and rapped at a door I found behind it another dreadful dingy woman—another fallen queen, I suppose— dingier than the last, dirty, you know, in grain. The steps, even the pavements, were invaded by little knots of loungers driven outside by the unusual heat of the evening, most of them in evening dress, or what passed for evening dress in Montague Street. ’ ‘Certainly he is not a friend,’ Melusine agreed, ‘but he has gone, after all. How would he act when he learned that it had vanished? She gathered up the manuscripts and restored them to the envelope. It would be downright cruel to disillusion her. Ask your own conscience.
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