The great ordeal—that which she had most dreaded—had proved to be no ordeal at all. It was also cold, and dark, for there had been no time to light the lantern. She had a compartment to herself in the train from London to Morningside Park, and she sat with both her feet on the seat in an attitude that would certainly have distressed her mother to see, and horrified her grandmother beyond measure; she sat with her knees up to her chin and her hands clasped before them, and she was so lost in thought that she discovered with a start, from a lettered lamp, that she was at Morningside Park, and thought she was moving out of the station, whereas she was only moving in. Still—I don’t know whether I quite like—Something ramshackle about those people, Vee. For Melusine was on him again, the point of her sword lunging so that he backed up onto the dais. Tender with the sick, firm with the strong, fearless, with a body that had the resistance of iron, there was nothing of the hypocrite in him. The chair is in the veranda.
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