” 209 Clotilde was no fool. Manning?” said her aunt. ” He sidled toward her, but she recoiled from him, leaving him in possession of the hearth-rug. Immeasurable disgust possessed her. ‘Besides, I don’t want the men blundering in here and frightening off our spy. ” She shrugged her shoulders slightly. All at once Melusine remembered Pottiswick, and the errand he had run. . . . ‘Hilary is a darling. A few steps brought him to the door of the vault in which his mother was immured.
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