The family always managed to make it home for supper, even though it was a dying custom. However, not a moment is to be lost. The signs of tears had all gone, but some subtle change seemed to have stolen into her face. And one must—some of it must slip through one’s fingers. I couldn’t rest or eat or sleep. Her cheeks were the colour of chalk, her eyes were filled with terror. I cannot explain beyond that. ’ Gerald eyed her. “But don’t you know about me?” he said at last. ‘Oh, peste,’ she cried out in distressed tones. She could almost smell her mother’s attar of white roses and lemon verbena with the memory of the story. Still, I suppose Melusine can always sell the house.
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