But she certainly remembered that when she was a little girl he sometimes wore tennis flannels, and also rode a bicycle very dexterously in through the gates to the front door. Suddenly she became aware of the fact that he had brought no lunch. Perhaps that sealed letter was a form of confession, and thus relieved him on that score. “Quite an unimportant one,” he assured her. ’ He thought Roding gave him an odd look, but his next question was already in his head. ’ 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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