He understood. Below her stretched a valley of rich meadowland, of yellow cornfields, and beyond moorland hillside glorious with purple heather and golden gorse. It was just as easy to pretend she was watching one when she was actually watching the other. The streets were full of colour. ‘In fact, I’ve never met anyone who goaded me to so much violence. She dropped the locket into its sweet hiding place. ’ *** In the cosy little parlour that Pottiswick rarely used, Melusine paced restlessly to and fro. He returned her to her door at a decent hour, well before 10:00.
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