255 “You have a very talented son,” was her opening line. Gerald’s temper flared. She came in while he was still in the throes, conviction battling with commonsense, his own apprehension. He stood upon the threshold, dangling his eye-glasses in his fingers, stolid, imperturbable, mildly interrogative. Her prevailing effect was one of quiet and complete assurance, as though she knew all about everything, and was only restrained by her instinctive delicacy from telling what she knew. ‘You know what I am about,’ exclaimed Melusine impatiently. “No, no,” she cried. Don't feel fussed upon my account. She did not see the metal pole swing toward the back of her skull, nor did she feel her own blood spoiling her light hair after the dull crack of metal broke her flesh.
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