His attention was focused on Melusine’s transfixed stare and he forgot to say any of the things he had planned to say. ’ ‘I do not care any more about the portrait,’ Melusine said, opening the door to the attic corridor that gave off onto the row of little rooms that served as private cells for the senior nuns. He may not know you’re in England, but if he has the smallest knowledge of your character, he must surely be expecting you. ’ He stared at the point, glanced at the fallen sword imprisoned by her foot, and only just looked back at her weapon in time to see it thrust at him again. ‘That is, if she’s gone that way. stare. A deadlock.
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