He glanced down between the still narrow distance that lay between Melusine and himself, and discovered her hand there, a very small dagger within it. He would be so disappointed. With his tongue lolling and his flea-bitten stump wagging apologetically, he glanced from face to face to see if there was any forgiveness visible. Lucy was a hard worker and a good cook and because of those traits she and Sheila had gotten along most of the time. A white man, wandering about the streets of Canton at night, was a challenge to such a catastrophe. ‘That will be a matter for her future husband to decide. ’ ‘Ah.
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