As the secret door opened, the sounds within the house came at once to her ears: the tramping of feet above, and the hoarse voices echoing through the mansion. “He is Annabel’s husband,” she reminded him. He glanced at Ruth (who had stood with her back to the wall, pinned there throughout the contest by terror and the knowledge of her own helplessness), then at the bronze menace, and calculated correctly that this particular adventure was finished. ‘Lay him down on a sofa,’ Melusine said, coming out behind them and moving towards the antechamber. He did not like it. The mere enumeration of the obstacles that existed would have deterred any spirit less daring than Sheppard's from even hazarding the attempt. If ever she felt fatigue in these long tramps which had already taken her half over London, she never admitted it. The afternoon had passed now into twilight. Drummond smoked his cigarette meditatively. I always thought that I could find and destroy all of her children, but there was no keeping up with it.
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