In the recess beside the fireplace were some open bookshelves. She released her clutch on it as, dizzy with exhaustion, she leaned against the back of the pew and closed her eyes, her fingers grasping out automatically for support. “I propose,” Sir John said, “that we pay for our dinner—which we haven’t had— tip the garçon a sovereign, and take a cab to the Ritz. O'Higgins wandered into this street and that, studying the signs and resenting the Britisher's wariness in using too much tin and paint. He would take with him that traitress Yolande, and claim to the lawyer that this was Melusine Charvill.
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