The Enschede Bible—the one out of which she read—had been strangely mutilated. There stepped forth a tall brown man. He brought his mother to call, and as you know the Countess goes scarcely anywhere. ‘Do not smile at me and try to make me not angry any more,’ Melusine warned, ‘for I am very angry indeed with you. ‘Here we go again. Swiftly following the sound of knocking, she crossed right and passed through a door near the windows—and found herself in the bookroom. She pushed him gently on the chest. ‘See that writing table? Go and look in the drawer there. Her answer was not quite ready.
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