Jerott’s hand increased its grip on her arm. ‘He is an island with all its bridges wantonly severed. What hostage to evil,’ said Jerott, poetic in his thumping displeasure, ‘will this night’s business conceive?’

‘I don’t know. But they’re both nice and clean, if that’s anything,’ said Philippa. And led the way philosophically down.

Auteur: Dorothy Dunnett