She killed every month, twelve a year, and was for all intents and purposes a serial killer of middle aged men. The three clerks fought for the only window, and saw her whisked into a hansom. ‘Would you have me face my maker with that on my conscience? If I’d died, there’d have been no one to tell you, for your father would not have done. ’ ‘This is not a new thing,’ Melusine snapped, goaded. "But what, may I ask, arouses the thought?" The doctor was in high good humour. Then for the first time she was conscious of an unaccountable and terrifying sensation.
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