Then he opened them again suddenly, to find Courtlaw still by his side. A snarl contorted his features, and he marched up to it, laying his pistol down on the marquetry table so that his hands were free to grab the picture off the wall. ’ ‘Do you indeed?’ rejoined the old lady, twinkling at him, and urging him towards the door. What else could one say? I left him to suppose—a registry perhaps. She stole the opportunity to peer at his departing figure from the closed curtains of the front room window, his shoulders slumped forward, his posture and his ego slightly deflated. ’ Melusine spread her hands and sighed. Wood.
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