’ Amazed, Melusine stared at him. ” “Not long ago,” she said, “you left me in anger, partly because of this exchange of identities between Annabel and myself. There was a mad musician, seemingly rapt in admiration of the notes he was extracting from a child's violin. ” “And what are you doing here?” the lady asked. ’ She frowned suddenly. Her eye wandered quickly over that riotous and disorderly assemblage, until it settled upon one group more riotous and disorderly than the rest, of which her son formed the principal figure. A fire enveloped her, a fire which was strangely healing, filling her heart with warmth, blotting out the menace of the world. "Is it indeed you, or am I dreaming?" "You're not dreaming, mother," he answered.
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