‘Precisely. ‘Jacques, do not die while I am gone. ‘How could I know that it is you?’ She peered at him in the darkness. . She heard the rats scattering across the stone as dirt fell into the crypt. As she raised it, its lower portion fell apart into two baggy crimson masses. Chapter Eight For an instant in the silence that followed, shocked into immobility, Melusine stared in horror at the body lying there so still. “Are we interrupting anything?” “No!” Martin jumped slightly. It was a large, littered, self-forgetful apartment, decorated with unframed charcoal sketches by various incipient masters; and an open bookcase, surmounted by plaster casts and the half of a human skull, displayed an odd miscellany of books—Shaw and Swinburne, Tom Jones, Fabian Essays, Pope and Dumas, cheek by jowl.
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