Chapter Eight For an instant in the silence that followed, shocked into immobility, Melusine stared in horror at the body lying there so still. He might have been a complete innocent, she did not know and did not bother to find out. From the first of these alighted Thames, or, as he must now be styled, the Marquis de Chatillon. ‘Odds were against it. ‘That is true,’ Melusine conceded. ‘What was you wanting it for, may I ask?’ ‘You may not ask, for it is none of your affair,’ Melusine snapped. Firmly built, as it was, the bridge creaked in such a manner with their contending efforts, that Abraham durst not venture beyond the door, where he stood, holding the light, a horrified spectator of the scene.
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