’ Melusine nodded. But it strikes me there's a nigger in the woodpile somewhere, as you Yankees say. ’ Abruptly, the niggling doubt that had been plaguing Lord Charvill came sweeping to the surface. Jonathan, however, still lingered. You did not find him, but did you find his pistol? In the room beyond the bookroom there—a big room where a table had fallen. ” The man nodded. He tore his gaze away, aware of the quickening of his heartbeat. What a treat to see all the old tabbies taken at fault for once!’ ‘You are a dreadful child,’ scolded Mrs Sindlesham, with which Melusine could not but agree, despite the dimple rioting in her great-aunt’s cheek. My concept of the reluctant vampire sprung from a rabid obsession with medieval history, especially the pre-Renaissance era of the Black Plague.
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