‘She won’t like it,’ prophesied the captain gloomily. He then scaled the northern tower, and made his way to the summit of that part of the prison which fronted Giltspur Street. Over the sea of heads arose a black and dismal object. That’s who you ought to go and see, miss. Ann Veronica’s desire to laugh unrestrainedly was checked by the tremendous earnestness of his expression. She had to school herself to speak the words which she knew would cut him like a knife. ‘Melusine, if you don’t let go my hand—’ He broke off as she dragged a pocket handkerchief from her sleeve.
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