“You must answer me, Annabel,” she continued. I asked him why, and he hadn’t a reason. Melusine tried to squash down, still trying to maintain her guard. "Pick up that blade, Nab," vociferated Wild, finding himself hotly pressed, "and stab him. And the fact that it was dressed in riding gear had fooled her into thinking it was her own image. He stared at her stupidly, forgetting to guard against the tactics he had come to expect from her. Ann Veronica said she didn’t care. She hesitated, and for a moment thought of omitting her second verse altogether. "The Chevalier shall hear of this," whispered the woollen-draper. She silently willed him to stop his pacing, to calm down. Perhaps, after all, the others were right.
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