Manning?” she asked. In the old days he had been something of an athlete—a runner, an oarsman, and a crack at tennis. Jack fell on his knees beside her. “No, Lucy, because Satan does not exist. She could not stir hand or foot. And then presently these clouds began to wear thin and expose steep, deep slopes, going down and down, with grass and pine-trees, down and down, and at last, through a great rent in the clouds, bare roofs, shining like very minute pin-heads, and a road like a fibre of white silk-Macugnana, in Italy. ‘There’s a surgeon on his way, and my men are under orders to do whatever is needful.
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