She saw his lips yell, “Stop. It was rude and disrespectful to raise her eyes to him, her mother had warned. If any of you—or all of you feel the same in six months’ time from to-day, will you come, if you care to, and see me then?” There was a brief silence. “A wonderful piece of work,” he declared. For a moment she too had started and faltered in her exit from the room. She was to fall back amongst the ruck, a young woman of talent, content perhaps to earn a scanty living by painting Christmas cards, or teaching at a kindergarten. Far too old to ask you on your first date. ’ Trodger had started towards the stairs, signing to his men to get behind the lady. His eyes swept down and Melusine felt the quiver at her lips where he gazed. And through it all, like a golden thread on a piece of tapestry, weaving in and out of the patterns, the unspoken longing for love.
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