’ Gerald came into the room as he spoke, his eyes on the stormclouds rapidly gathering in Melusine’s face. It was warm, shielding, comforting, and what was more, full of understanding. The door into the passage offered itself with an irresistible invitation—the one alternative to a public, inexplicable passion of weeping. For the face under her gaze she could find but one expression—fine. Just as he had told Gerald would be the case, there was nothing of interest to hear, especially as he had met the girl in London only last night. ‘Will that be all, ma’am?’ ‘Yes, yes.
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