Do not waste time in vain regrets, but let us remove the body, that we may fulfil her last injunctions. . . ’ A gleam of rare humour slid into Charvill’s chest. ’ ‘You’re going to break into the house? You’re mad. On this side was a razor with which a son had murdered his father; the blade notched, the haft crusted with blood: on that, a bar of iron, bent, and partly broken, with which a husband had beaten out his wife's brains. "Remember the devil!" retorted Terence, who had recovered his natural audacity. Following him, and acting out of instinct rather than intent, Melusine took a firm grasp of the gilt frame with both hands, lifted it high in the air and, with a shrieking curse, brought it down hard.
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