\" Lucy replied sardonically. Away in London even now Capes was packing and preparing; Capes, the magic man whose touch turned one to trembling fire. He could only wonder that this amazing thing had remained so long a secret to him. ” She spotted a beer bottle and picked it up from the ground. “Good, I’m so glad, Lucy. ’ ‘Then you’re mad,’ Roding said flatly, and suddenly grinned. “Well,” she achieved at last. It now came to him with an added thrill how well she had told her story; simply and directly, no skipping, no wandering hither and yon: from the first hour she could remember, to the night she had fled in the proa, a clear sustained narrative.
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