I expect Mr. ’ ‘You think it would have been better for me to stay as a nun and be killed like the Valades?’ said Melusine, brutally frank. ‘Though he didn’t mean it. He talked with his manner gentle and kindly. I have always managed to survive, haven’t I?” She was eager to stop talking about her parents. He looked like a French boy soldier she had once glimpsed marching towards his death in one of the battles they would later call the Hundred Years War. His gaze drawn, Gerald watched him dip to pick up a crushed square of white linen and a starched object that resembled a helmet. “Perhaps,” she said, “it is the London climate. Brewis had told him the Valade family had been victim to wholesale murder, and a twinge of compassion had wrung even his deliberately hardened heart. “I’d rather go as a chorus-girl,” she said.
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