It was not the arrival of the guests, but merely the maid moving about in the hall. ’ ‘How did you come by it? You didn’t steal it, did you?’ ‘Certainly I did not steal it,’ said Melusine indignantly. The wound lay open for five seconds, and then closed neatly as if it had been stitched by invisible hands. Lucy went hunting on a Thursday night. I still have a cross stitch she made for me of a little fairy sitting on a daffodil. I have always been lonely. I intend to remain very serious indeed while I’m doing it. Her girl Clarice was next, dying within a single day, blood leaking from her pretty brown eyes like an image of the Blessed Virgin.
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