She dropped the locket into its sweet hiding place. There was barely room for one, let alone two, in the passage, and Melusine ended up backwards, supporting Jack as best she could as he stumbled along, grasping the rough walls on either side with both hands. A door, it may be remembered, opened from Wild's dwelling into this yard. She occupied a small sofa, a little apart, a ruddy-complexioned gentleman some years her senior beside her, and glanced about with an air of considerable unease. He forgot Annabel’s idle attempts at love-making, all the cul-de-sac gallantry of the moment. That glove is still preserved. Cheveney strolled up, a pipe in his mouth. “They have all been trying to turn my head. ‘I’m following a scent. The idea of Ruth as a talisman against misfortune—which he now recognized as a sick man's idea— faded as his appreciation of the absurd reasserted itself.
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