She covered herself with her arms. “Who took care of you after she died?” “My father. You and I. She thought of the suitcase, the seventy-seven dollars for a Greyhound ticket that had expired. ‘Why?’ ‘Why take me to France? Why trouble himself with me, when so easily he could leave me to this Monsieur Remenham to keep?’ To Melusine’s instant suspicion, Martha bit her lip, drew a breath, and avoided her charge’s gaze. " "I am almost afraid to utter it," said Kneebone; "but Thames Darrell is murdered.
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