All at once Melusine remembered Pottiswick, and the errand he had run. General Lord Charvill disinherited him for his pains. The nuns had no regard for the sensibilities of a “lady” and expected Melusine— for it was her allotted task—to clean and tend the soldier’s wounds even when they festered. ’ ‘Probably not. ’ She glared at Hilary. ’ She sighed. He waited for an instant, wasting an encouraging smile in the imperfect light, and then shut the doors of the van, leaving the women in darkness. It was a clear, lovely, October morning. “I’ve been playing since I was five, Lucy! You’re just more talented than I am. ‘Who have lately joined us,’ she said, adding sotto voce, ‘A very great tragedy.
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