’ ‘Was it yours?’ Insulted beyond bearing, Melusine lost her temper. I’ve accustomed myself to think of you— as if you were like every other girl who works at the schools—as something quite outside these possibilities. “But you yourself,” she exclaimed, glancing into his face, “you too look tired. The blow had brought him back to the realm of sober thought. Remember, in your story—look at it, scattered everywhere!—that line? We arrive at true happiness only through labyrinths of misery. His reputation was slightly tainted by his marriage to her mother, an exotic blue-eyed raven-haired beauty, a Gypsy doll with a clandestine heritage.
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