‘By traitors I am surrounded!’ ‘Stop talking utter twaddle,’ ordered Roding, marching up to the desk. “Well, no,” she answered. She brought her hands up to her head and ripped out two long chunks of her hair, pulling out shreds of scalp. “Yes. Turning to Melusine, he grabbed both her wrists and held her away from him, as if afraid that she might go for him. “No, it was simple. It’s the rarest luck, the wildest, most impossible accident. That was the glorious if bewildering truth. She broke a cobblestone over his head and he was out. ‘And I don’t mind telling you it goes agin’ the grain with me to let you go free and all, missie. He knew that tragedy was as blind as justice, that it struck the child and the grown-up impartially. But the five per cent.
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