’ Chapter Three Captain Hilary Roding listened with only half an ear to the long-winded report being given by Sergeant Trodger, his idle gaze wandering over the congested traffic of Piccadilly and the many pedestrians weaving a hazardous path through it. Brendon made a quick movement forward. ‘Melusine…Melusine. Now, you and I can gossip at a gate, and Honi soit qui mal y pense. Most people, every one I know else, seem to have mated with foreigners and to talk uneasily in unfamiliar tongues, to be afraid of the knowledge the other one has, of the other one’s perpetual misjudgment and misunderstandings. Don’t try to shield anybody or hide anything. “It’s Ennison, isn’t it?” he exclaimed. ‘But that is easy.
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