Chapter Eighteen
“Miss Toogood,” Octavius cried, running after her. “Wait! I can explain!”
Miss Toogood didn’t stop. She darted down one of the paths, heading for the house.
“Miss Toogood!” he cried, skidding wildly in the gravel, almost crashing into a camellia bush. “Wait!”
Dex shoved past him.
Octavius lost his balance and fell into the camellia’s embrace. Branches scratched and poked at him. He fought his way free and launched himself after Miss Toogood—and almost bowled his cousin over.
Dex stood quite still in the middle of the path. Half a dozen yards distant, Miss Toogood also stood quite still—no, she wasn’t standing, she was floating, a foot off the ground, her arms outstretched for balance, her hands clutching futilely at the air, her hem swirling gently around her ankles.
