The rest was easy. You would suffer the torments of the damned for what you had done. ’ ‘Truly?’ asked Melusine, warmth lighting her bosom. She spent the morning up to ten in writing a series of unsuccessful letters to Ramage, which she tore up unfinished; and finally she desisted and put on her jacket and went out into the lamp-lit obscurity and slimy streets. It reached her only slowly that Ann Veronica was standing to her resolution. A light was visible in the garret, feebly struggling through the damp atmosphere, for the night was raw and overcast.
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