She was aware of him—a silk-hatted, shiny-black figure on the opposite side of the Avenue; and then, abruptly and startlingly, he crossed the road and saluted and spoke to her. Melusine ripped strips off her under-petticoats and fashioned a pad, which she bandaged as tightly as she could over the wound, working swiftly, unperturbed by the gore. "You tried to do something that was fine, and … and civilization would not let you. A few yards further off something grey, inert, was lying, a huddled-up heap of humanity twisted into a strange unnatural shape. At least—’ ‘Don’t be more of a lunatic than you can help,’ broke in the captain, addressing himself to Melusine.
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