It seemed an emblem of the ruin he had caused. ‘I do not steal,’ declared the lady hotly. He became angry. The young rascal had learnt from some of the women-servants that Lady Trafford was from home, and was in the very act of making off when I got down stairs. She saw her aunt in tears, her father white-faced and hard hit. Certain phases of irony always caused him to chuckle audibly. ‘Well, we’ll just go on up and have a look at this here passage, missie, shall we?’ ‘Have I not been saying so?’ snapped Melusine, exasperated.
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