He put an arm around her. His eyes on Melusine, he uncocked the pistol, and then reached out to the portrait, grasping it by one edge. ’ Chapter Nine As she devoured the simple meal of bread and cheese, and several slices of cold roast beef, the whole washed down with a poor sort of coffee, Melusine listened with avid interest to the details of her mother’s life as revealed by the exclamatory conversation of Joan Ibstock. ‘Do not speak any more for you give yourself pain,’ said Melusine fearfully. ‘Now let’s have it. Maybe others that I do not know about.
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