’ ‘Couldn’t help but do so, ma’am,’ said Mrs Ibstock. Her face reminded him of a delicate unglazed porcelain cup, filled with blond wine. She was alarmed at how little her husband Gianfrancesco packed for the trip, leaving behind his best scarlet and black lucco, which he wore for every business and political meeting. I might as well try to build a ladder to heaven. The threadbare remainders of the dinner discussion hovered over the topics of obsessive fans of the science fiction and horror genres. Following him, and acting out of instinct rather than intent, Melusine took a firm grasp of the gilt frame with both hands, lifted it high in the air and, with a shrieking curse, brought it down hard. “I have a letter for him from his brother, which I was just leaving.
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