They crossed the street, and entering the front door passed up the outside stone steps of the flat. The effort of self-repression cost him a sob. He tore it down just as the Wastrel rose, wavering slightly. ’ ‘Hélas, poor you,’ Melusine rejoined sarcastically. Darting forward at this sound, Jack threw open the door, and beheld Quilt kneeling over Thames, who'se hands and feet were bound with cords, and about to plunge his sword into his breast. She imagined herself on a barren 41 plain, post-Apocalypse, convulsing, waiting to die with the cockroach. He now understood her interest in Taber, as he called himself: habit, a twice-told tale.
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