Her heartbeat quickened. “You met no one upon the stairs, or saw no one leave the flats?” “No one,” Anna answered firmly. ‘Melusine…Melusine. A little love from him would be enough. He was unusually absurd and ready, and all the time it seemed to Ann Veronica as a delightful possibility, as a thing not indeed to be entertained seriously, but to be half furtively felt, that he was being so agreeable because she had come back again. ‘What’s this? Impertinence! French manners, is it?’ ‘Grace à vous,’ Melusine threw at him fiercely. "It is your son. You may fall into the hands of your enemy.
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