" While this order was obeyed, Figg, who had been standing near the door, made his way to the prisoner, and offered him his huge hand, which Jack warmly grasped. ‘Pardon, mademoiselle, but perhaps your father went to England, after all, and —’ ‘My father went to Italy,’ interrupted Melusine, her heart tightening with the familiar sensation of loss. “Did you see who that was?” he asked in a low tone. ‘She didn’t behave in the least like an émigré, if these people are anything to go by. It was an intimate smell, the unmistakable scent of him and another woman. Wagstaff.
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