The coach was slowing down, and he realised that they had arrived in Golden Square. Melusine grasped the hilt of the sword she had been carefully holding, and came out into the light. “Sure, are you sure you’re okay?” He exited off the highway onto a quiet road and pulled over. “I wish that I could forget it,” he said. She spent a very disagreeable afternoon and evening—it was raining fast outside, and she had very unwisely left her soundest pair of boots in the boothole of her father’s house in Morningside Park—thinking over the economic situation and planning a course of action. “Didn’t you know he was married?” asked Miss Klegg, and was struck by a thought that made her glance quickly at her companion. “Read this, John.
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