Well, it had to happen somewhen. Perhaps that sealed letter was a form of confession, and thus relieved him on that score. ’ ‘So this is the way you serve me,’ exclaimed Melusine, her quick temper flaring as she jumped up, slammed her hands on the desk and leaned towards him over it. Sorrow lay in the back of his mind as he withdrew, but he put it aside. He reminds me of a slave I once had in Rome with those sullen dark eyes and that wistful pout. It’s just upon my lunch-time. There is no Heaven for your mother.
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