’ ‘Why should Gérard care?’ sneered Gosse. So here is your chance, Mademoiselle Charvill. “Her husband was a county councillor, and she has a niece who comes to see her in a carriage. He stopped on the curb-stone, not facing her but as if he was on his way to cross the road, and spoke to her suddenly over his shoulder. Reverse psychology or something, it’s like she was trying to draw him nearer by pushing him away. His vision was becoming accustomed to the faint light now and her features were clearer. ” Lucy looked at the small shelf which was jammed with thick paperbacks by every major horror novelist of the twentieth century.
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