She was sitting on the mean straw mattress that was placed on the iron bedstead in the makeshift cell, while Melusine stood with her back to the door, confronting her old nurse with the truth. The door is open, so it is needless to ask leave to enter. ‘First I must see Jacques, and—’ ‘No need for that,’ intervened Roding, grasping her arm and trying to drag her to the door. He glanced downwards at the impetuous torrent, which he could perceive shooting past him with lightning swiftness in the gloom. ‘You don’t know him.
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