Then he turned round and gazed thoughtfully at the particular spot in the fog where Courtlaw had disappeared. There was no need to be afraid for me. She hated tricking Shari, whose joy for life was the only thing that made her naive enough to fall for laced iced tea or hot cocoa, depending on the season. Nor as I’ve to put up with a French spy in my parlour—’ ‘Peste, how you talk,’ interrupted Melusine impatiently, barely taking in his complaints. “It is rather odd,” he said, “but I always thought that your name was Annabel and hers Anna.
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