’ They passed through a little antechamber, and Melusine sighed with relief as she entered the library next door. Dashing through the open door, he crossed the Old Bailey, plunged into a narrow court on the opposite side of the way, and was out of sight in a minute, baffling all pursuit. Out of these he selected a faded parchment and restored the rest to safety. ‘You are too shrewd for me, ma’am. Probably a sick man's whim. Oh, Mr Jarvis paid no mind,’ she added hastily, as if expecting disapproval. There is not a soul in the inn but ourselves. One can't help being jealous, you know, even of an unworthy object.
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