’ ‘I don’t even know your granddaughter, ma’am. The trio of girls approached the newly laid cement curb, where throngs of young girls in pink lip-gloss fanned and preened like peacocks as rich boys circled round, revving the engines of their father's red cars. Melusine glanced towards the elderly dame and found that sharp gaze directed upon her. That was Leonardo’s motto. The owner of this dress had a broad weather-beaten face, small twinkling eyes, and a bushy, grizzled beard. It was Blueskin. ‘What in the world is that?’ demanded Miss Froxfield.
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