Sheppard raised her eyes, and fixed them upon her interrogator. Melusine ripped at the buttons of the garment, dragging it open and away, and gasped at the massive red stain on his shirt. "Curse me, if I don't think all the world means to cross the Thames this fine night," observed Ben. For most of a long and fluctuating night she was fairly confident that she would find work; she knew herself to be strong, intelligent, and capable by the standards of most of the girls she knew. He had not bothered to take off his raincoat and his umbrella sat dripping on his modern ice cube of a table.
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