‘You the fellow Gerald spoke to?’ Kimble flushed beetroot, and Melusine had a flash of insight. ’ Melusine took refuge in defiance. What else could one say? I left him to suppose—a registry perhaps. I do not intend to allow you to forget. He looked at Annabel, whose face was buried in her hands— he looked back at Anna, who was regarding him with an easy composure which secretly irritated him. ‘Before she can think of marriage, Melusine must prove her identity. It’s the poor dears who do, who know they will, know they can’t keep it up, who need to clutch at way-side flowers.
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