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. ’ ‘Damn you, answer me!’ Her eyes flashed. “You asked me in to tea,” he protested. McClintock stared into the bowl of his pipe and Spurlock into his coffee cup. " "Not quite," rejoined the thief-taker, significantly. I wonder. All through that brief but measureless space of time during which wonder kept him silent, as fear did her, she cowered there, a limp helpless object. Was it a week ago? No, perhaps more. “I don’t care a rap for remembering. What do you think, Annabel?” “I don’t think they would,” she admitted. The man who sat behind a pigeon-hole, and regulated the comings and goings, was for a moment absent. She thought of how much she wanted to eat the foods she had once feasted on that now smelled as innocuous as spring flowers.
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