It
had thrust her back with an undignified scuffle, with vulgar comedy, with an
unendurable, scornful grin. I have
never spoken of these things to any human being. “Hi John. Something that is born
anew each time we meet, and pines when we are separated. ‘Melusine, don’t sit there. Whether they are loved or
unloved has no bearing upon this desire to test their wings, to try this new
adventure, to take this leap into the dark. Does this not disturb you?”
278
“Of course it disturbs me. . ”
“Thanks to me,” he repeated, puzzled. It is abominable—”
“What is the use of keeping up this note of indignation, Ann Veronica? Here I
am! I am your lover, burning for you. "
Silence. Small, but eminently serviceable. But De Maupassant—sheer off! Stick to Dickens and
Thackeray and Hugo. Mike seemed visibly happier at her remark. F.
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