’ ‘Woof!’ The sergeant appeared nonplussed, and Melusine pressed her advantage. “My husband!” she laughed a little derisively. She had not nursed Leonardo for weeks for nothing. There sat Jack, evidently in the last stage of intoxication, with his collar opened, his dress disarranged, a pipe in his mouth, a bowl of punch and a halfemptied rummer before him,—there he sat, receiving and returning, or rather attempting to return,—for he was almost past consciousness,—the blandishments of a couple of females, one of whom had passed her arm round his neck, while the other leaned over the back of his chair and appeared from her gestures to be whispering soft nonsense into his ear. They stood back together and stared at it. Mounting the door he had last opened, he placed his hands on the wall above, and quickly drew himself up. But over against the world Miss Miniver assembled a small but energetic minority, the Children of Light—people she described as “being in the van,” or “altogether in the van,” about whom Ann Veronica’s mind was disposed to be more sceptical.
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