The next few hours will tell. Her heartbeat raced, her limbs turned to water, and it was only by a miracle and the strength of the arms that held her that she remained standing on her feet. ‘No sense in snooping about down here,’ Gerald whispered. He was snoring stupidly. You are afraid—that here in London—I shall not be a success. Nor as I’ve to put up with a French spy in my parlour—’ ‘Peste, how you talk,’ interrupted Melusine impatiently, barely taking in his complaints. But his grief was of short duration. “Annabel! God in Heaven, it is Annabel!” She did not speak. ‘Or flew in by balloon, perhaps. Here I am.
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