‘Comment? This is not a mirror!’ It was a portrait. “Holy shit!” Giggling and snickering was amplified by asbestos tiles and reverberated by metal desks. Moving back to the corner again, she ran a hand back over the leather-bound books—which, she realised, were not books at all. ” She paused. ‘Don’t be silly. She slipped down the perfunctory flight of stairs, short because of the home’s split-level style. ’ ‘I imagine it must be a relief to you, after so lucky an escape. ’ ‘But, no,’ cried Melusine anxiously. ’ ‘Yes, it’s all my fault,’ he agreed soothingly, ‘and you may rail at me presently as much as you please. “They have all been trying to turn my head. ‘Still—here? Wasting your—time. \" He said.
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