She let out a wail. No; she'd never go back. She heard the rats scattering across the stone as dirt fell into the crypt. She barely heard a word that Martin or Brown said, until Martin’s voice chimed. “Thank goodness!” said that retreating aspect, “that’s said and over. And one must—some of it must slip through one’s fingers. “I think that I will leave this letter for him,” she said. ’ Then he bowed, raising his hat in salute and, crossing to the coach, spoke briefly to its driver and leapt into it without looking back. When she awoke, she felt sick, her mouth still salty with blood. No one had lived here since old man Remenham had died some eighteen months ago, for the heir, so it was rumoured, was a relative with property of his own. But who would pay the ransom? There was no one left in his family. You see to what it has brought you. It came into her head with real emotional force that this must be some particularly fantastic sort of dream.
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