They walked across a moat of pea gravel that crunched like noisy cereal under their feet. I have not found the secret way into the house, for instance. "Well, that beats all I ever heard of!" roared Blueskin. What the devil is her name, now we know she isn’t you?’ ‘Yolande,’ supplied Melusine. From a scout stationed at the northern entrance, whom she addressed in the jargon of the place, with which long usage had formerly rendered her familiar, she ascertained that Blueskin, accompanied by a youth, whom she knew by the description must be her son, had arrived there about three hours before, and had proceeded to the Cross Shovels. She and Courtlaw drove homewards together. Here was a little corner of the past—a tragic corner.
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