Christina and the boys

Christina's eyes were big with horror as she clasped her tiny hands round her knees, and stared into the fire in front of her. She was in her father's library: a large dimly-lighted room with books lining the shelves on the walls from top to bottom. It was an afternoon in early autumn; the last rays of the setting sun were stealing in through a stained glass window and colouring the dingy writing...