Her anger died and she eyed him. He nodded. John was acutely focused upon her now, just as she had wanted him to be. Given the proper incentive, who could say that he might not likewise go nobly to some fine end? She thrilled. As she talked she made weak little gestures with her hands, and she thrust her face forward from her bent shoulders; and she peered sometimes at Ann Veronica and sometimes at a photograph of the Axenstrasse, near Fluelen, that hung upon the wall. Tea in the laboratory was a sort of suffragette reception. At the back of her mind there seemed always one irrelevant qualifying spectator whose presence she sought to disregard. He took about five minutes. It was the grand nursery of vice. You won't often see white folks. ’ ‘I see now how it was that Marthe knew of the secret passage,’ Melusine said.
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