In that sense, my strategy worked. The three of them laughed joyously. ‘You the fellow Gerald spoke to?’ Kimble flushed beetroot, and Melusine had a flash of insight. She tended the twins while the Clotilde was in Sebastian’s private chambers, a place she gave a wide berth. However, no one had discovered me, so I contrived to drag myself to my horse. In one angle of the room stood a disused fire-place, with a rusty grate and broken chimney-piece; in the other there was a sort of box, contrived between the wall and the boards, that looked like an apology for a cupboard. Good night. “You might at least,” she murmured, “have invented a more romantic reason.
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