His stories had enchanted her, even if in some deep corner of her heart she guessed they were not entirely true. He disappeared into its thick doors like a magician’s rabbit. ’ She bit her lip, and then turning her face away, emitted another sigh. What a treat to see all the old tabbies taken at fault for once!’ ‘You are a dreadful child,’ scolded Mrs Sindlesham, with which Melusine could not but agree, despite the dimple rioting in her great-aunt’s cheek. Manning think?” said her aunt. “We have a small studio,” she murmured, “in the Rue de St.
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