Part 4 At eight that evening Miss Stanley tapped at Ann Veronica’s bedroom door. “It was just an hour before teatime,” she remarked. She looked about, watching a massive green storm cloud building in the west. On this side was a razor with which a son had murdered his father; the blade notched, the haft crusted with blood: on that, a bar of iron, bent, and partly broken, with which a husband had beaten out his wife's brains. ’ ‘Was it yours?’ Insulted beyond bearing, Melusine lost her temper. The only departure which he made from the fashion of the period, was in respect to the peruke—an article he could never be induced to wear. She had found it in 1988, the year of the stock market crash.
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