‘But you said she was looking for proof. The vengeance of the assailants did not stop here. ‘As to that, I am at this moment altogether displeased with Gérard, you understand,’ Melusine temporised. She had found that proof. ’ ‘What young lady?’ demanded a voice from the back of the hall. Trodger was lying in wait at the bottom of the narrow stairs. ‘You mean that there is a rival Melusine to the one he has heard about? He does not. The by now familiar dramatic sigh came. Let me keep him. She opened her suitcase—new and smelling strongly of leather—and took out of it a book, dogeared and precariously held together, bound in faded blue cloth and bearing the inscription: The Universal Handbook.
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