Through yet another doorway she observed an ancient silk brocade loom. ‘I disgust you, eh? Very well, then. He was still thickly clad in jeans. We don’t want no trouble, do we?’ At sight of him, everything went out of Melusine’s head but the thought of Jack Kimble. ‘I do not know him. This is not what I want. He glanced at Ruth (who had stood with her back to the wall, pinned there throughout the contest by terror and the knowledge of her own helplessness), then at the bronze menace, and calculated correctly that this particular adventure was finished.
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