“Let us go,” she said to Webster. “Take me away from this. It fills me with disgust.”
“I do not wonder,” he said gloomily, running his eyes over her frayed dress. “You look ill; won’t you rest?”
“It is not rest, but change—change from this fearful, this degrading life—that I need.”
“Degrading?”
“Yes, degrading!” she replied passionately. “Where is Mr Hume?”
“I do not know,” he said.
“Find him, then.”
He rose slowly, looked at her a moment dully, then heavily moved off towards the ruins, where after a long search he found Hume seated with his hands over his eyes. He waited for some time patiently, but as Frank showed no signs of his presence he touched him on the shoulder.
“Miss Anstrade asks for you. She wishes to return.”
There was no reply.