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The
landlord
looked
back
at
the
small
heap
of
coins
on
the
bar
.
That
was
worth
a
little
weirdness
.
At
least
this
one
was
a
quiet
one
,
and
seemed
to
be
harmless
.
’
Oh
,
yes
,
’
he
said
,
propelling
the
stranger
into
the
street
and
retrieving
the
bottle
in
one
smooth
movement
.
’
Drop
in
anytime
.
’
THAT
’
S
THE
NICEHEST
THING
—
The
door
slammed
on
the
rest
of
the
sentence
.
Ysabell
sat
up
in
bed
.
The
knocking
came
again
,
soft
and
urgent
.
She
pulled
the
covers
up
to
her
chin
.
’
Who
is
it
?
’
she
whispered
.
’
It
’
s
me
,
Mort
,
’
came
the
hiss
under
the
door
.
’
Let
me
in
,
please
!
’
’
Wait
!
’
Ysabell
scrambled
frantically
on
the
bedside
table
for
the
matches
,
knocking
over
a
bottle
of
toilet
water
and
dislodging
a
box
of
chocolates
that
was
now
mostly
discarded
wrappers
.
Once
she
’
d
got
the
candle
alight
she
adjusted
its
position
for
maximum
effect
,
tweaked
the
line
of
her
nightdress
into
something
more
revealing
,
and
said
:
’
It
’
s
not
locked
.
’
