‘Nothing of the sort,’ argued Gerald. ‘Jacques? You have done it? He is alive?’ ‘Oh, he’s alive, all right,’ confirmed the sergeant, putting the petrified Pottiswick—stockstill and staring in horror at the dagger—firmly out of his way and taking his place before Melusine. ‘Jacques!’ Melusine dropped to her haunches beside his inert form, feeling for the wound. See paragraph 1. ‘The old man who lives here, idiot. . " "May be," returned the man gravely. ‘Oh, mon dieu.
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