The stairs smelled musty. Dampness coiled around her nostrils the instant she maneuvered Topaz through the door. Mrs. Ferret rushed to shut it behind them. Too many treads on tired feet from dawn till dusk. The business of opening a window to let in the midnight air, another task it was easier to forget. How could she remember so much when this could be a trap? And at the very least they would take Topaz from her? Many a slip indeed. And yet, relief had washed at these words. His ...