The comparisons upon which she could draw were few and confusingly new, mixed with reality and the loose artistic conceptions of heroes in fiction. Fortescue raised his eyebrows and assumed a light-comedy expression. Rummage, my boy, do. ‘That is settled then. Somehow I haven’t connected the idea with you. ‘I dropped the lantern,’ Jack’s muffled voice told her. Next moment, he had Melusine by the arm. Any man might have endeavoured to protect himself in this fashion, a man with no one to care, with an unnameable terror at the thought (as if it mattered!) of being buried in alien earth, far from the familiar places he loved.
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