‘No need to shake in your boots,’ Gerald said soothingly. Melusine—the real Melusine—would never have made such a stupid mistake. The rain smelled of the Tyrrhenian Sea, which lay only a few paces beyond the manor's white sea-soaked walls. ’ ‘I find that difficult to believe,’ snapped the general, jerking to and fro as his agitation mounted. It is absolutely a frightful neighbourhood, this. ‘Who kills who?’ ‘Rot in hell,’ he snarled, panting, and managed to push himself forward and leap off the dais, running for the safety of the far aisle by the wall. His expression became pained. The constable, Sharples, is in my pay.
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