’ Chapter Five ‘Now then, young Jack,’ Gerald said, turning to the lad, who was sitting in the place lately vacated by his self-appointed mistress, but in a state of far less relaxation. 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. Lucy treaded down two steps, stunned. ‘Leonardo again,’ he growled. He filled the rôle of comrade which Spurlock dared not enact, at least not utterly as he would have liked.
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