He looked at it eagerly, but made no movement to take it. The taste of his sweat was intoxicating, like sweet brandy, like blood. And as he gave back the portfolio to Sir Rowland he contrived, unobserved, to slip the precious document into his sleeve, and from thence into his pocket. But this revulsion was engulfed by the succeeding waves of pity and understanding. Mom, this is Lucy Albert from school. ’ ‘You say—what?’ gasped Melusine. I only wish he was not a Papist and a Jacobite. It was you who were so much amazed that I did not try—the music hall stage here.
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