Now then, missie—’ ‘Bon,’ said Melusine, interrupting him without ceremony, and paying no attention to the muskets that were pointing at her from two directions. ‘And it is not only a question of her identity, but a matter of her life as well. If ever I did meet a man I could love, I should love him”—her voice dropped again—“platonically. There is the key. Do you mean to tell me you didn’t understand why I wanted you to come here?” “Not a bit of it,” said Ann Veronica stoutly. “I saw him stagger and sink down, and the pistol was smoking still in my hand. She opened her suitcase—new and smelling strongly of leather—and took out of it a book, dogeared and precariously held together, bound in faded blue cloth and bearing the inscription: The Universal Handbook. He realized that he was committed to the path across the fields, an uninteresting walk at the best of times.
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