‘Marry an Englishman! Which Englishman?’ Melusine shrugged. The Hospital St. Let me engage myself. ‘But how do you come here?’ ‘Down on a routine patrol, unluckily for you,’ he answered grimly. He waited for an instant, wasting an encouraging smile in the imperfect light, and then shut the doors of the van, leaving the women in darkness. She looked around the apartment for other people. What had shifted his casual interest was the visible prospect of a party of three who were coming down the packet gangplank. ’ The woman shrugged helpless shoulders, looking to her husband. The road which wound by Westbourne Green, gave him a full view of the hill of Hampstead with its church, its crest of houses, and its villas peeping from out the trees.
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