’” “Is ‘Alcide’ still in Paris?” Ennison asked. She cursed the treachery of memory, its frailty and spottiness. ’ ‘Then why,’ demanded Melusine, ‘did you do it?’ Gerald closed his eyes. ‘Let her go. A hazy face appeared through the fog of sleep, pale and thin and looming. Even that he sleeps, I must give to him my thanks, for he has been excessively brave for me. But—he was cleverer than any of you. ‘It was your son who left the place empty then?’ he asked. A strong arm pulled her closer, and the lips that mouthed her own in tender touches sent her senses reeling.
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