“No, I must have had hope lurking somewhere too. What he needed was not a food but a flavour; and the cocoanut taste of the chestnuts soothed his burning tongue and throat. Mr. He reappeared in street clothes, his cropped hair not even damp from the shower, fresh-faced and sweetsmelling. He moved to one side, bowing and gesturing to the door. . ‘You’ll come with us and get yourself safe back home to your convent, understand?’ ‘But wait,’ begged Melusine, hanging back. He mumbled an apology and then stopped short. “In private. He’s been near it once or twice already. Never before had he seen a man like Enschede nor heard a voice like Ruth's. He was plainly attired in a riding-dress and boots of the period, and wore a hanger by his side. .
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