Mr. ’ ‘You mean monsieur le baron, the General Charvill, my grandfather?’ Melusine laid aside on the table the letter she had been studying and turned so that the frame of her nun’s wimple no longer obscured her view. It'll be your turn to save mine next. Lucy could sense her mental resolution to nip Michelle’s burgeoning obsession with the occult in the bud. Pews had been brought in and set in two rows before the huge table, covered in white cloth, that formed the altar at the far end. “Soon enough, John. A SCENE FROM THE PHOTOPLAY.
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