No, you don’t!” Ennison had moved stealthily a little nearer to him, and looked suddenly into the dark muzzle of the revolver. He dropped the key on the counterpane. Spurling, who wished to protract the discovery of the escape as long as possible. She dared not say the word aloud, not even to herself. Joe, my foster dad, was a heroin and booze addict. ‘Then it must certainly be Eugénie. Before leaving the place he looked upwards, and could just discern the blue vault and pale stars of Heaven through an iron grating at the top. I must tell somebody—and you would understand. Published by Elizabeth Bailey 2012 www.
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