John’s father added cheerfully, “So, do you play any violin?” She balked at the stereotype, but admitted, “Yes, I play violin. We’ve brought a carriage to take you back to London, and I’ve settled with Trodger, who has just given me a coherent account of the affair. And if you’ve any notion—’ ‘Yes, it is upstairs,’ Melusine agreed, crossing to the library door. She had never expected John capable of saying such things, of thinking such macabre ideas. I have two Malay clerks in the store; but I'm obliged to have a white man to watch over them, or they'd clean me out. Get pen and paper for the missie. Be on your guard. “What the hell.
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