In this way, they reached Holborn Bridge. What reassured her, however, more than anything else, was the shape of the mouth: it was warmly turned. Gerald seized Melusine by the hand and drew her towards the stairs, throwing a command at Kimble as he did so. Even were she to get an opportunity to scream, it would be some time before such a call, unprecedented though it might be, brought the nuns so much out of their absorption that they interrupted their prayer to investigate. “Just forget it, Lucy! Keep your secrets to yourself!” He stomped out, slamming the heavily paneled oak door. Melusine, starved of colour for years, revelled in it. She doubted how she stood toward him and what the restrained gleam of his face might signify. She spotted her opportunity. It was approached from the street by a flight of broad stone steps, leading to a ponderous door, plated with iron, and secured on the inner side by huge bolts, and a lock, with wards of a prodigious size. He gave an order, the proa was floated and the sail run up.
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