Melusine fetched her stool and plonked it down next to her great-aunt’s chair. Grimly Hilary smiled to himself at the effect of Gerald’s name. He saw his father, calling to him from an icy white tunnel, beckoning to him. She is English, and apparently in some distress. “I wonder what he takes me for?” When presently she got down from the stile a certain note of internal conflict, a touch of doubt, had gone from her warm-tinted face. But she made a pretence of struggling a little, for it would be out of character for her not to do so and she did not want to arouse his suspicions. How I wish I might meet this delightful mystery lady of yours. And then her pace slackened.
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