Spurlock was basically a poet, quick to recognize beauty, animate or inanimate, and to transcribe it in unuttered words. She was sitting on the mean straw mattress that was placed on the iron bedstead in the makeshift cell, while Melusine stood with her back to the door, confronting her old nurse with the truth. ’ ‘I’ve a good mind to leave the pair of you to it and take myself off,’ threatened his junior, marching across the room and snatching up a decanter. ’ For a moment he looked daunted. Raymond Plote would only be missed by his mother. ’ Lucilla eyed him with one of those particularly feminine looks it was difficult for a mere male to interpret.
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