4. His salvation—if there was to be any—lay in her ignorance of life. ’ ‘But tell,’ demanded Melusine impatiently. She ignored it until it repeated itself. Sebastian crouched on the floor with a single dead victim, a young highwayman. Puffy blue curtains dressed every oakstained window. Stanley was inclined to think the censorship should be extended to the supply of what he styled latter-day fiction; good wholesome stories were being ousted, he said, by “vicious, corrupting stuff” that “left a bad taste in the mouth. ” “But I can’t help but notice from your bookshelf that you read all sorts of horror and science fiction.
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