Melusine sighed with relief and set to work by the light of the lantern. And yet, often when alone, he wondered: had McClintock been wrong, or had she ceased to care in that way? The possibility that she no longer cared should have filled him with unalloyed happiness, whereas it depressed him, cut the natural vanity of youth into shreds and tatters. ’ ‘Aye, miss,’ Kimble agreed, taking the garments, ‘but where will I find you?’ ‘I do not know. ’ He grimaced. ‘Would you care for some refreshment? A glass of wine, perhaps?’ ‘Nothing, merci, I do not remain,’ she answered, although she did not rise. “It is no good playing a game.
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