’ It had not before occurred to him, but this realisation fuelled the general’s growing conviction that he was being imposed upon in some way. His reputation was slightly tainted by his marriage to her mother, an exotic blue-eyed raven-haired beauty, a Gypsy doll with a clandestine heritage. Her mother was a goddess to her all through her youth, the mysterious ruler of all things beautiful and wonderful and lunar, her eyes that glinted spectral blue, as if she had the knowledge and the magic to raise the very dead. Even though the individual faces of her audience were not to be singled out, she had been conscious from the first moment of her appearance that something was wrong. “I shall send for a policeman,” Anna said, “directly my maid answers the bell— unless you choose to go before. She did not try to approach him. .
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