His literary instincts were reviving. To walk beside him, dressed akin to him, rucksacked and companionable, was bliss in itself; each step she took was like stepping once more across the threshold of heaven. But all normal humans smelled wonderful to her, even dirty ones. ’ ‘It is well seen you are not Gérard,’ Melusine said, but thankful now that he was not. He too looked at the girl, slackened his pace and looked at her again through his eye-glasses, looked over his shoulder after he had passed, and finally came to a dead stop. Having once more got into the chimney, he climbed to a level with the ward above, and recommenced operations as vigorously as before.
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