He was braver than her husband, who paced and cowered in the corners of the once-sunny Palazzo. He was ruffled, and his ears were red, no doubt from some adjacent controversy. Usually his charges bored him with their interrogative chatter, for he knew that his information more often than not went into one ear and out of the other. Moreoever, it had cost her a whipping and several days’ imprisonment in her cell on bread and water. Lucilla broke across Melusine’s thoughts. Here was no crooked soul; a little weak perhaps, impulsive beyond common, but fundamentally honest.
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