E. ’ ‘Because I was a servant in the vicomte’s house? Things have changed. He had absorbed her in a single glance, and was now defining her as he worked. His hand went to his pocket and extracted a neat silver-mounted pistol. Groping their way through one or two dark and mouldy-smelling vaults, the party ascended a flight of steps, which brought them to the hall. He needed to laugh, but only she laughed as he chuckled weakly. With a strong tendency to satire, but without a particle of malice or ill-nature in its display. It was Ramage, the occupant of the big house at the end of the Avenue. ‘You do not use your head, Emile,’ she said flatly.
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