There was barely room for one, let alone two, in the passage, and Melusine ended up backwards, supporting Jack as best she could as he stumbled along, grasping the rough walls on either side with both hands. He was almost frightening in silhouette, his hair uncontrollable under the best of circumstances, but that changed when you saw his face. The gun flew from his hand, clacking on the floor. But if I were dying of thirst, in a desert, I would not accept a cup of water at her hands. But he could only discern a black and shapeless mass, floating upon the water at a little distance, which, to his bewildered fancy, appeared absolutely standing still.
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