The time was the 26th of November, 1703: the place, the Mint in Southwark. “Want one?” Michelle deadpanned. “I’m fine,” she said softly. Wood laughed louder than ever. In the early hours of the morning, unable to bear the suspense any longer, Melusine had ventured to explore the mansion, the lantern she had brought in hand, commenting to herself all the time on the state of the place and the difficulties of her task, and having no idea of the consequences she was bringing on herself thereby. "Poor creature!" ejaculated Wood. ’ Both Valade and the granddaughter gazed at him blankly.
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