She touched bow to strings, playing a fifth. She sensed that he was looking for her. She’s taken my sword. His throat filled; he wanted to weep. Meantime, as the doctor was splitting his breakfast orange, he heard a commotion in his office, two rooms removed: volleys of pidgin English, one voice in protest, the other dominant. He growled in his throat and, thrusting his coat open, revealed his own buckled sword-belt. ’ He turned to the lodgekeeper behind him, whose shocked fear had given place to a direful frown. ‘And so you sneak back,’ she threw at him, ‘like the jackal that you are. She hesitated. ‘No one is here, Melusine, except you and I. Mrs. F.
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