The library was on the ground floor, Melusine recalled from the previous visit, for she had searched through a desk in a room filled with bookshelves of leatherbound volumes. ‘I’m damned if I see what you have to complain of,’ uttered Charvill, a faintly bewildered note underlying his irascibility. He displayed none of the airy optimism of their previous talk over the downland gate. He learnt that his sister was privately married—the name or rank of her husband could not be ascertained—and living in retirement in an obscure dwelling in the Borough, where she had given birth to a son. ” Courtlaw was alarmed at the man’s pallor. ‘He lacked moral fibre, did Nicholas. He walked through a wide open archway, curtained with deep-blue curtains, into the apartment that served as a reception-room. ” He shook his head. Her head dipped deeply into the current, and she narrowly escaped being swamped.
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