But she had not reckoned with the etiquette of Canongate. And some were adorned with engravings that struck her as being more vulgar and undesirable than anything she had ever seen in her life. An inarticulate instinct which now found expression. ‘What are you going to do now, child?’ Melusine sighed away the last of her distress. She had looked up from her seat at the small round table in the centre of the parlour which, together with the wooden armchairs beside the small fireplace, and a sideboard next the single casement, was all the furniture the place afforded. Melusine opened her eyes at him. She kept her eyes closed.
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