‘Come, Hilary. ‘Not here. The wedding procession passed on, and the cynical rabble poured in behind. " There was a pause. “Get me some brandy and my bag. ‘Good God!’ uttered Roding. She wanted to scream, but there was no one to scream for. Why had Ruth married him? A penniless outcast, for she must have known he was that. The swellings appeared under her arms and a general panic spread through the Palazzo. The girl who had just left the room was as great a mystery to him now as on the afternoon when he had met her in Piccadilly and taken her to tea. Capes went first, finding footholds and, where the drops in the strataedges came like long, awkward steps, placing Ann Veronica’s feet. It seemed to him that speech would be an anticlimax. Now lend me your own hand. Aided by an individual, who was acquainted with a secret outlet from the tenement, Darrell escaped.
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