She fell into a deep delirium, whispering hoarsely to her dead mother, cursing God in Heaven, cursing her doctor, cursing herself as apparitions of devils and demons pulled at her with yellow ochre hands. No police officers or lurking storms were anywhere in sight. ‘The gatehouse? But why must you move him at all?’ ‘Listen, missie. Anyhow he confessed that he was a fraud. ’ She waved towards a handy table to one side which was piled high with so many volumes, it looked in imminent danger of crashing to the floor. Tell me how are you amusing yourself?” Anna laughed. The necessity of defending herself and assuming a confident and secure tone did much to dispell the sense of being exposed and indefensible in a huge dingy world that abounded in sinister possibilities. . "He is," returned Quilt, significantly. Every now and then something familiar in her tone, the poise of her head, the play of her eyes startled him.
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