He had an air of having told her a deep, personal secret. ‘Aha,’ grunted Gerald with satisfaction, squinting up at the two open shutters on the second floor. I know he is dead. ‘What in God’s name is going on?’ Glancing swiftly towards the doorway, Gerald saw his friend’s disbelieving face and burst out, speaking over the top of Melusine as she made another grab for the little square of linen. Through an open door was a glimpse of the bathroom—a vision of luxury, out of which Annabel herself, in a wonderful dressing-gown and followed by a maid presently appeared.
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