She opened it and drew out a letter, and folded within it were the notes she had sent off to Ramage that day. He's settling an account in the house. She flung herself back into the bare little room, cold, empty, comfortless. This was an imitation of the noises made by the carnivora at the Zoological Gardens at feeding-time; the idea was taken up by prisoner after prisoner until the whole place was alive with barkings, yappings, roarings, pelican chatterings, and feline yowlings, interspersed with shrieks of hysterical laughter. He was always tenderly courteous; he answered her ordinary questions readily and her extraordinary ones patiently; he always rose when she entered or left the room. But to live at peace with your neighbour….
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