’ Melusine’s heart twisted. But as she got out of the train at Morningside Park Station she had a shock. Her defence ceased rapidly to be in any sense ladylike, and became vigorous and effective; a strand of black hair that had escaped its hairpins came athwart Ramage’s eyes, and then the knuckles of a small but very hardly clinched fist had thrust itself with extreme effectiveness and painfulness under his jawbone and ear. His eyes squeezed shut in ecstasy; he let out a sigh. It’s all nonsense. “It’s like this,” he said, and dragged a stool beside her and sat down with his elbow four inches from hers and made a sketch. Then the bridge had arched gateways, bristling with spikes, and garnished (as all ancient gateways ought to be) with the heads of traitors. She fluttered it with a trembling hand, averting her eyes from his, and he could hear her uneven breath behind it. She rang again with the same result. She was trying to bring her problems to a head, and her mind insisted upon being even more discursive and atmospheric than usual.
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