Her brown curls were pulled tight in a severe chignon. ‘What are you, a nincompoop? She was Nicholas’s wife, of course. There was a moment’s breathless and disappointed silence. She remembered that she had not gone to bed until two o'clock in the morning. She stood there with white set face and nervously clenched fingers. "If Jack Sheppard sups with Mr. ‘Why?’ Melusine eyed him dubiously. She opened her suitcase—new and smelling strongly of leather—and took out of it a book, dogeared and precariously held together, bound in faded blue cloth and bearing the inscription: The Universal Handbook. As if it were she, and not Melusine, who had been hurt by the imposters. ' Why," said Ruth, "you did not read that to us.
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