She turned her head to each side. The door into the passage offered itself with an irresistible invitation—the one alternative to a public, inexplicable passion of weeping. ’ ‘I don’t know that there is so much to tell. “You told me that your name was Meysey Hill. ‘Let me see if our minds are attuned. In one angle of the room stood a disused fire-place, with a rusty grate and broken chimney-piece; in the other there was a sort of box, contrived between the wall and the boards, that looked like an apology for a cupboard. ’ Lucy was silent for a space, once again wearing that inscrutable expression.
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