The petals have fallen—the red petals we loved so. Wrap yourself in my cloak, and keep it. She was amazed that at over sixhundred years old that she could miss her parents so bitterly. ’ Chapter Nine As she devoured the simple meal of bread and cheese, and several slices of cold roast beef, the whole washed down with a poor sort of coffee, Melusine listened with avid interest to the details of her mother’s life as revealed by the exclamatory conversation of Joan Ibstock. ‘Would that your mistress were as trusting. Her head was downcast as she studied the museum-like exhibits of various dusts on the resilient tile flooring.
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