She looked round wildly, as if seeking some source of help, as the boots halted at the front door and the shouting intensified. She often found herself absorbed by watching the tall grass undulate from the cave’s central doorway as solitary hunters prowled for buffalo and stag on the plain. ‘Jacques? You have done it? He is alive?’ ‘Oh, he’s alive, all right,’ confirmed the sergeant, putting the petrified Pottiswick—stockstill and staring in horror at the dagger—firmly out of his way and taking his place before Melusine. ’ The idiocy of it all irritated Melusine. ” Annabel had been lying curled up on the lounge, the personification of graceful animal ease.
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