She read voraciously, and presently, because of her aunt’s censorship, she took to smuggling any books she thought might be prohibited instead of bringing them home openly, and she went to the theatre whenever she could produce an acceptable friend to accompany her. Before he even glanced at the man on the floor he stepped over to her side and took the poker from her. He groaned, much to Melusine’s relief. Below her stretched a valley of rich meadowland, of yellow cornfields, and beyond moorland hillside glorious with purple heather and golden gorse. The infant’s body, now missing its pulverized head, was still twitching among the blood-soaked ruins of corpses.
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