’ ‘Aye, sir,’ Kimble said at once, and took up his stance at the bottom of the stairs as Gerald dragged Melusine up them. He opened it—just off-hand, and then when he saw what it was he hit at the table and sent his soup spoon flying and splashing on to the tablecloth. “Please forgive me. Me—I’m nothing but a country wench, and one who went to the bad. ” She distantly remembered moments in childhood spent in phobic trance, when her father had told her God was punishing sinners in Hell. ‘In the bookroom, sir,’ answered the man, his eyes round as they took in the furious beauty at the visitor’s side.
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