For a time he and Miss Klegg contradicted one another. As usual, however, on the occasion of any great calamity, a crowd was scouring the streets, whose sole object was plunder. She went to her own table and sat down. Her husband had caught her leaning over a precipice into the ruins of the oubliette, and had punished her by flogging her back with a switch. ‘Oh, peste. We must wash out those stains up stairs, and burn the cloth. For the past four weeks mirrors had been her delight, a new toy. Shrinking involuntarily back into the farthest corner of the seat, Jack buried his face in his hands.
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