She was slowed down by the icy wind that punctuated itself in screams around houses and trees. ‘But you said—’ Gerald tutted. She was sitting on the mean straw mattress that was placed on the iron bedstead in the makeshift cell, while Melusine stood with her back to the door, confronting her old nurse with the truth. This done, he let himself carefully down by it, and having only a few feet to drop, alighted in safety. Under this unnerving scrutiny, a slow flush mounted to the woman’s cheeks. At the door to the kitchen, he called out, ‘Pottiswick!’ The old man came out, shoving his chin in the air and glaring.
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