"' Instead of regarding him, Jack glanced over the iron bannisters, and measured the distance. ‘But then again, possibly not. Certainly your major—’ ‘Ah, now that’s just it, missie. A good deal of the food will be in tins. I wonder what men would say if we threw the mask aside—if we really told them what WE thought of them, really showed them what WE were. As if it were she, and not Melusine, who had been hurt by the imposters. She looked upon it with pity as she drank his diabetic blood and saw that several of his fingers were missing. Come along, master.
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