It isn’t pretty, but we’re made so. You’ll be telling me Gerald did not catch you snooping at the Bicknacres, I suppose. There were neither texts nor rubbish on the walls, but only a stirring version of Belshazzar’s feast, a steel engraving in the early Victorian manner that had some satisfactory blacks. Ann Veronica was excited and puzzled, with a sense of a strange and disconcerting new light breaking over her relations with Ramage. He resented being regarded as irregular. Now, as she stared at the image of her own face, she recalled something Major Alderley had said. ‘Are you going to tell me?’ ‘But looking for proof,’ Melusine uttered impatiently.
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