. ’ She sniffed and swallowed. Worse than any man. ’ ‘Poor sort of a mother,’ Martha said with bitterness. Chapter Eight For an instant in the silence that followed, shocked into immobility, Melusine stared in horror at the body lying there so still. She had no inkling of that insupportable wrong. Capes stood side by side upon an old Persian carpet that did duty as a hearthrug in the dining-room of their flat and surveyed a shining dinner-table set for four people, lit by skilfully-shaded electric lights, brightened by frequent gleams of silver, and carefully and simply adorned with sweet-pea blossom.
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