The recollection of the forlorn and loveless years—stirred into consciousness by the unexpected confrontation—bent her as the high wind bends the water-reed. Then, her body still tense with the atoms of anger, she sat down upon the edge of the bed and rocked from side to side. ’ ‘You mean the bookroom, miss. Don’t favour your father much, either, if it comes to that. ‘Well,’ began Captain Roding, looking at Melusine, ‘you know those nuns of yours took up Valade—I mean, Gosse—and put him to bed to mend his wound, and I posted a guard outside his room so he couldn’t escape, for Gerald told you all that. One little minute with soap and water, voilà tout. Ask your own conscience. Her face reminded him of a delicate unglazed porcelain cup, filled with blond wine. She ignored it until it repeated itself.
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