He—In fact, he—he locked me in my room. ‘No one is here, Melusine, except you and I. He flung open the door and cast a quick glance round. She visited the corner that had been her own little garden—her forget-me-nots and candytuft had long since been elbowed into insignificance by weeds; she visited the raspberry-canes that had sheltered that first love affair with the little boy in velvet, and the greenhouse where she had been wont to read her secret letters. Overjoyed beyond measure at having vanquished this apparently-insurmountable obstacle, Jack darted through the door.
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