Anna, who had thrown aside her sealskin coat, wore a tight-fitting walking dress of some dark shade. He was ill at ease, though he would not have confessed his disquietude even to himself. “Call me Cathy, John. It probably had its own repulsive oubliette in the bottom, where tiny princesses could fall and break their necks. Her own pack was so light that she left it in the locker. Of late, however, his plotting had assumed a more dark and dangerous complexion. ’ She allowed herself to be pulled to the centre of the room, but uttered in a low tone, full of suppressed anxiety, ‘How can he know? How can he know?’ ‘You mean how can he know that this is your house?’ Melusine looked up at him, distress in her eyes.
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