’ Chapter Six Creeping along the dark narrow passage, with lantern held well ahead to keep her step steady on the uneven stones—and to warn her of the advent of rats— Melusine kept her long petticoats fastidiously clear of the dirt with an efficient hand, a habit she had learned in the convent. He followed. He hugged her when he saw her in the hallway. ‘And, if this was not enough,’ went on the lady furiously, ‘you dare to say I am French. I’ve got nothing to do for a month but think. D'ye hear how the wanes creaks on old Winchester House? We shall have a touch on it ourselves presently.
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