At this point Lucy, in an effort perhaps—foolhardy, in Gerald’s opinion—to pour oil on troubled waters, rose swiftly to her feet and came towards the old man, her hand held out. “Rubbish!” he answered. Wrenched from their holds, the iron palisades in front of the thief-taker's dwelling were used as weapons to burst open the door. This was an imitation of the noises made by the carnivora at the Zoological Gardens at feeding-time; the idea was taken up by prisoner after prisoner until the whole place was alive with barkings, yappings, roarings, pelican chatterings, and feline yowlings, interspersed with shrieks of hysterical laughter. She was trying by some wonderful, secret, and motionless gymnastics to restrain her tears. If only there had not been this single torturing thought—a mere pin-prick, but still curiously persistent. ‘Now then, where did you spring from?’ ‘Do not concern yourself from where I come,’ Melusine snapped.
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