At this point Lucy, in an effort perhaps—foolhardy, in Gerald’s opinion—to pour oil on troubled waters, rose swiftly to her feet and came towards the old man, her hand held out. They heard his footsteps descending the stone staircase, growing fainter and fainter. The figure she had longed to see came into her line of vision, but at this crucial moment of hideous realisation, Melusine barely took it in, her eyes fixing blankly on the man behind. "I'm quite at your disposal. And it has been well for you that he imagines the child was drowned.
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