Listening on the dimlit landing, he saw Roding’s face muscles tighten. From her stomacher, to which it was attached by a multitude of glittering steel chains, depended an immense turnip-shaped watch, in a pinchbeck case. He looked fiercely and inquiringly from one to the other of his companions; but, though both of them were excessively frightened, neither appeared guilty. She refused to eat. Capes? Well, think what it must be to live in them—soul and mind and body! It’s fun for a man to jest at our position. She had arranged for a supper of tea, a boiled egg, and some tinned peaches. When she released him he ran down the beach for a stick which he fetched and laid at her feet.
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