“I didn’t blow up the house. I can’t imagine Londoners—particularly interested in me. . ’ They passed through a little antechamber, and Melusine sighed with relief as she entered the library next door. Nor was Jack by any means the only stripling in the room. ‘Jacques? You have done it? He is alive?’ ‘Oh, he’s alive, all right,’ confirmed the sergeant, putting the petrified Pottiswick—stockstill and staring in horror at the dagger—firmly out of his way and taking his place before Melusine. ‘I cannot possibly shoot a lady, you know. “You would be wise to loosen your purse-strings, Gianfrancesco. In his condition the boy apparently had been as safe as in the lock-up.
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