They had scarcely gained the adjoining cellar when Jonathan and the Jew rushed past in the direction of the vault. Michelle sat on her bed, which emanated scents of powdered laundry detergent and Sweet Honesty perfume. ‘Whither away, mademoiselle?’ he said grimly, ungently grasping her arm above the elbow. Raising the bowl in his right hand, Jack glanced towards the balcony, in which the group of ladies were seated, and begged to drink their healths; he then turned to Kneebone and the others, who extended their hands towards him, and raised it to his lips. Beyond was another door, on which was painted in black letters: MR.
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