"Don't alarm yourself. ‘Then it must certainly be Eugénie. A home MAY be a sort of cage, but still—it’s a home. ” “Anything except that,” he murmured. Every so often a wall of water, thin and jadecoloured, would rise up over the port bow, hesitate, and fall smacking amidships. In doing so, he had to clamber up the immense heap of bricks and rubbish which now littered the floor, amounting almost to a car-load, and reaching up nearly to the top of the chimney-piece. It was past seven when she got back to her hotel.
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