" Thames turned away at the question, which he felt might be construed into a reproach. “I meant to say good-bye to you to-night. Below the window he saw two coolies carrying a coffin, which presently they callously dumped into a yawning pit. Her life hangs upon a thread, and this may snap it. He hung over her—he and his loan to her and his connection with her and that terrible evening—a vague, disconcerting possibility of annoyance and exposure. I hated him. "Be it as you please," replied Winifred. From this spot a road, more resembling the drive through a park than a public thoroughfare, led him gradually to the brow of Dollis Hill. "The doctor said something about that. As they left Florence, dying men and women still scrabbled through the streets, screams emanating from the rows of houses, beggars running up to the horses, sick children in their arms, their eyes bleeding, their noses running, begging to join them in their journey out. I can’t help you a cent. It was an intimate smell, the unmistakable scent of him and another woman. ’ ‘I fetched them with my clothes when the son of madame took me to see Marthe,’ Melusine admitted.
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