Having seen his mistress safe down, Jack instantly descended, leaving the best part of his clothes, as a memorial of his flight, to the jailor. “It is a night of endings,” she murmured to herself. She turned about, and was persecuted by visions, half memories, half dreams, of Ramage. Still silence everywhere. She enjoyed preparing the evening meals, the smells of potatoes roasting in the oven, the stink of onions in the pan, the crackle of chicken frying. He turned the water off and handed her a towel. “Do you see why you cannot survive in the world without me? The world is full of mundane things, Lucia, but it is also full of terrible things.
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