He inspected the formidable array of rifles and at length walked over to the register. He was always word-building, a metaphorist, lavish with singing adjectives; but often he built in confusion because it was difficult to describe something beautiful in a new yet simple way. I felt as though I had bandaged eyes. He was still flashily dressed, with much obvious jewellery and the shiniest of patent boots, but his general bearing and appearance had altered for the worse. Hang it, there must be something about her that will give it away. ‘Does Charvill know that this Melusine of yours is here?’ The question distracted Gerald. So, bloody but unbeaten, weak and spent but undaunted, he waited for the Wastrel to spring up.
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