‘Brung the lantern, I did, and opened the door again in case you was ready. ” Anna read, and her cheeks grew slowly scarlet. Rhea’s head exploded into a spray of blood, brain, and bone. She found herself again in the presence of some element in life about which she had been trained not to think, about which she was perhaps instinctively indisposed to think; something which jarred, in spite of all her mental resistance, with all her preconceptions of a clean and courageous girl walking out from Morningside Park as one walks out of a cell into a free and spacious world. ‘Her name is Melusine Charvill,’ Gerald began. So, here he was, on the last lap of middle age, in China, having missed all the thrills in life except one—the war against Death.
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