Outside stood a stocky, combat boot-clad girl of seventeen with a teased mass of spiky bottle-black hair. It was a queer little bed-sitting-room almost in the roof, with a partition right across it. He felt that he was getting on with her very slowly indeed, but he did not see how he could get on faster. The crowner's 'quest sat on her yesterday—and if she hadn't been proved out of her mind, she would have been buried at four lane-ends. "What's this here kinchen in for?" asked Terence, as he and Quilt strode along, with Thames between them. There was a huge desk of heavily carved ebony at one end, and at the centre, a couple of straight-backed chairs stood before a great fireplace at the outer wall, flanked by two bookshelves with casement windows above. Jonathan, however, was nowhere to be seen.
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