She struggled against it quite uselessly. He remained standing by the stem of the proa, his glance roving investigatingly. He suspected a trap. “Is that not rather a profitless speculation, my friend?” He seemed deaf to her interruption. “I should imagine,” he said, shaking out a copy of The Times, “that it is your brain which is addled. There must be something behind the missioner's actions, something of which the girl knew nothing nor suspected. ’ Chapter Nine As she devoured the simple meal of bread and cheese, and several slices of cold roast beef, the whole washed down with a poor sort of coffee, Melusine listened with avid interest to the details of her mother’s life as revealed by the exclamatory conversation of Joan Ibstock.
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