Part 2 The next morning was as dark and foggy as if it was mid-November instead of early March. “How can you change people’s ideas if you have no power?” said Kitty Brett. Melusine had confessed this morning, that she had borrowed his horse, that Jack had met with his accident through her fault. Moving swiftly to the end of the corridor, he pushed open a door at random and entered a large room, which looked to have been a saloon, judging from the faded gilt and crimson wall-paper, a mirror above the fireplace which was surrounded by an ornate gilded frame, now sadly tarnished, and a worn Chippendale sofa with striped upholstery and tasselled cushions. I've come to take you back home.
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