Did I not say so, Hilary?’ Melusine’s glance shot across to the newcomer, and found a petite blonde standing there, very fashionably attired in a velvet mantel over an apple-green robe, the furred hood framing a face alive with mischief. He had removed his silk hat, and now sat looking at Ann Veronica over an untouched cup of tea; he sat gloating upon her, trying to catch her eye. “How has the world taken it?” he asked. The trees were graceful and brown, arching and fanning their golden leaves as if to shower with coins the pink-gold sky. What else could one say? I left him to suppose—a registry perhaps. The teacher turned towards the blackboard to inscribe the names of Capulet and Montague. “That doesn’t touch the question I asked you,” she said. So many things she saw that her interest stumbled rather than leaped from object to object.
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