CHAPTER X. ‘If he had, he’d have found the sword, see. No! I do not even know that he cares for me. Ann Veronica said nothing. “Here we are,” he said, “shining through each other like light through a stained-glass window. Leastways, she’d be your greataunt, wouldn’t she?’ Astounded, Melusine was just about to demand further information, when a commotion outside the room interrupted her. He would get her to come to tea with him, usually in a pleasant tea-room over a fruit-shop in Tottenham Court Road, and he would discuss his own point of view and hint at a thousand devotions were she but to command him. Her target was a fifty-four year old man who lived with his mother, an obese neighborhood woman, a widow named Dawn Plote.
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