It was he who saw them first coming down the room—Annabel in a wonderful white satin gown in front, and Sir John stiff, unbending, disapproving, bringing up the rear. And not on Melusine’s account, but to see Prudence, who had no use for a cavalier. Lucy grabbed its handle, her broken bones mending inside her causing her to wince in pain. “So am I the jewel or the bug inside?” He smiled. The warm September sun fell strongly on this part of the grounds, uninterrupted by trees, its light bouncing off the glass in the mansion’s walls. He resumed his listening. “May I ask whether you are staying with friends in town?” he inquired deferentially. "Ja, ja, Muntmeester," said the Dutchman, removing the pipe from his mouth, and speaking in a deep and guttural voice, "leave the affair to Johannes. Not at all.
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