Anna leaned back with half closed eyes. From the centre of the ceiling hung a replica of the temple lamp in the Taj Mahal. And then, as she stood there, with the fragments of the torn canvas at her feet, some even caught upon her skirt, the door was thrown open, and a girl entered humming a light tune. That would be an unkind twist of fate. I’m six hundred and forty-eight years old, John! I should have never seduced a young boy, let alone expected him to keep my secrets for me. Locked! He sped out to the corridor and went swiftly into the next room.
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