Chapter Seven
‘Well found, Uncle Silvester,’ said Gussie. ‘Though I confess myself unable to understand the import of all this, just yet.’
The grinding rasp of stone against stone answered her. The gargoyle rumbled, from some undetectable spot in the gallery: ‘Little Bella Selwyn. Charming girl. Turned into stone when she was vexed, but I always thought that rather an advantage to George.’
Gussie searched the ceiling for some sign of her great-uncle, but found none. ‘I do not understand your meaning, Uncle,’ she said. Silvester was not much given to coherence, it was true, but such a pronouncement defied all comprehension. ‘Who is Bella Selwyn?’
A shadow shifted on the far side of the gallery. Gussie saw a dark, whip of a tail hanging down in a curl, partly obscuring the tall hair worn
