He tasted like cinders and ash, but not of smoke. “Sorry to be so terribly rude, Martin. Even in her painting smock and with her disarranged hair, the likeness between the two girls was marvellous. She uncrossed her legs and lowered herself, carefully and slowly, until she lay supine. You saw him? You have been to Remenham House?’ ‘Remenham House? I wish I’d been only to Remenham House. ’ Gosse’s eyes went to the portrait, and evidently took in the uncanny resemblance, looking from it to Melusine and back again. I think you’re wrong.
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