’ Chapter Nine As she devoured the simple meal of bread and cheese, and several slices of cold roast beef, the whole washed down with a poor sort of coffee, Melusine listened with avid interest to the details of her mother’s life as revealed by the exclamatory conversation of Joan Ibstock. For a time she looked at no more apartments, and walked through gaunt and ill-cleaned streets, through the sordid under side of life, perplexed and troubled, ashamed of her previous obtuseness. “These are her rooms,” she said. “Are you looking for Mike? He’s working. Two women entered and sat down at the adjoining table. If he hasn't a job for you, he'll know someone who has. Before he could fire a second shot, Jack had to defend himself from the thieftaker, who, with his drawn hanger, furiously assaulted him.
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