Manning, with a sweep of the arm. And as for not knowing me, you abominable little liar, you’re perfectly aware that we met at Remenham House. The Night-Cellar XVIII. What a pity! But why? There was no way over this puzzle, nor under it, nor around it: that men should drink, knowing the inevitable payment. There it was—to be borrowed. ‘Where is Gérard?’ ‘Out of town,’ Hilary said briefly. ‘Melusine!’ Distracted, Gosse blinked and his eyes flicked away from Melusine’s just as she flung the fullness of her gathered petticoats in the way of his blade.
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