If she had any idea at all, it was something she dimly recalled from her books: something celestially beautiful, with a happy ending. ’ She halted, her pistol still held firm and straight, both hands gripping it, her expressive features at once determined and uncertain. But that was soon put right, and she walked out into London with a peculiar exaltation of mind, an exaltation that partook of panic and defiance, but was chiefly a sense of vast unexampled release. ” She stopped with an air of interrogation. Shrinking involuntarily back into the farthest corner of the seat, Jack buried his face in his hands.
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