‘Are you going to come quietly, mademoiselle?’ he demanded with grim determination. She had a feeling as though something had dropped from her eyes, as though she had just discovered herself for the first time—discovered herself as a sleepwalker might do, abruptly among dangers, hindrances, and perplexities, on the verge of a cardinal crisis. He certainly bore inspection. To his astonishment and delight it yielded to the pressure, toppled over the ledge, and sank. Sebastian dug through the viscous layers of foul-smelling clay with a shovel, each successive insertion creating an obscene sucking noise that ate at her sanity.
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