Her evident terror and distress reinforced the tale he told. She hoped the lights would become hot enough to melt her into the floor. You were afraid of me, afraid that I should have been shocked, afraid of the scandal. Wood required little pressing. 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. She made noises between weeping and laughter as she went. His anger gave way to grim humour and he thrust towards them, leaning heavily on his cane. "I merely asked the question," he said, after he had enjoyed the boy's suspense for a moment.
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