We don’t want no trouble, do we?’ At sight of him, everything went out of Melusine’s head but the thought of Jack Kimble. After an hour of waiting, she slammed her bedroom door and he returned to his basement. ’ ‘Yes, a pretty theory, Lucy,’ Gerald said evenly, ‘but for one thing. The rich, heavy food sat in her stomach like so many soft pebbles. He never felt any need to explain himself. You have been burning paper, I see. Most of the horses were dead, all but three stallions and two mares left among what was once a thriving stable. I made her my unwilling confederate. And yet, at the end of this prayer a subconscious thought broke through to consciousness. I seek chaos, but not out of choice. She thought me— filthy. You can’t look me in the eyes and say you don’t care for me. ’ It was the Press who forced the identity upon me. Leonardo had not taught her to do so.
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