Lucy stared at the girl for a long ten seconds, and then looked away. She spoke with a certain odd deliberation carefully chosen words which fell like drops of ice upon the man who sat listening. ’ ‘I fetched them with my clothes when the son of madame took me to see Marthe,’ Melusine admitted. Lucy kissed him on the cheek. A pity you did not think to tell me that part of the tale at the outset. A sound sleeper, she was not roused by the creaky openings and closings of drawers as Lucy packed a single duffle bag with underwear and soap that was pilfered from a multipack of Zest in the Beck’s downstairs bathroom.
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