At half after five that afternoon the doctor and his friend McClintock entered the office of the Victoria. ‘I’m a soldier, missie. She pulled down her veil and made her way to the door. Every other wall comprised bookcases, except where the doors appeared. ‘And now,’ he said, drawing Madame to the seat, and contriving to sit close enough that his anatomy touched hers at several points, ‘let us talk about you, madame. Out of these he selected a faded parchment and restored the rest to safety. He was disquieted. He heard Rollo's stump beat a gentle tattoo on the floor.
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