’ 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. "What's that to you?" demanded Jonathan, gruffly. " Spurlock's glance shot up, flaming again. Your mother arrived, and she knew me for what I was, she whispered to me curses against werewolves and vampires when I was alone in a room with her. And stony broke. And yet—Wait a little, you’d better have every bit of it. He beamed a little as she disappeared into the orchestra room, a cacophony of tuning instruments. Things were thrown here and there, to be taken up, or again cast aside, as the whim arose; while the broken-backed chairs and crazy table bore the marks of many a conflict. So, after the dinner was over, Spurlock took her home; and worked far into the night.
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