He had his sections of the Siegfried map folded in his pocket, and he squatted up with his legs crossed like an Indian idol while she lay prone beside him and followed every movement of his indicatory finger. She let out a delighted laugh. All the party were greatly interested by Sheppard's history— especially Figg, who laughed loud and long at the escape from the Condemned Hold. Will you?” She thought, and it seemed to him she had never looked so self-disciplined and deliberate and beautiful. A grimy, battered object, which had no place in the fashionable quarter of town. "It is droll," he said.
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