You’d make a good Devil. Melusine was silent, revolving this outcome in her mind as she stared at Roding, who was frowning at her in a puzzled way. Melusine, used to the stark surroundings of the convent at Blaye, had no complaint to make. ‘Come along. It isn't as if he were stricken with typhoid or pneumonia or something like that. As Spurlock called her name, she paused and turned. “But—your people!” she gasped. ‘Flirting, Gerald? A new come-out for you. It can wait a bit longer. It might prove rewarding. It would be protective; it would with age turn to silver unnoticeably. Of you, I mean. It now came to him with an added thrill how well she had told her story; simply and directly, no skipping, no wandering hither and yon: from the first hour she could remember, to the night she had fled in the proa, a clear sustained narrative. ’ ‘No, for that would have had to be in Melusine’s possession to start with. But, alas! Ah Cum shrugged philosophically.
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