One little minute with soap and water, voilà tout. I never could. ’ ‘Yes, Hilary, do stop hustling the girl,’ put in Miss Froxfield, much to Melusine’s relief and approval. ’ ‘And was not she put out?’ demanded Miss Froxfield with a tinkling laugh. Running to Gosse, she seized the portrait from his hand and lashed out, taking him off guard, so that he staggered back and fell against the card table. It was 1582. “Who are you—Annabel Pellissier or her ghost?” Anna laughed.
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