Groping their way through one or two dark and mouldy-smelling vaults, the party ascended a flight of steps, which brought them to the hall. Never before had he seen a man like Enschede nor heard a voice like Ruth's. “Please forgive me, Lucy. ’ ‘Gosse,’ corrected Lucilla. ’ ‘But you do not make love,’ Melusine pointed out. To walk beside him, dressed akin to him, rucksacked and companionable, was bliss in itself; each step she took was like stepping once more across the threshold of heaven. I tell you I’m Meysey Hill, the railway man.
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