9. Lucy sat paralyzed, as still as Tiger Lily on the death raft. As she hoisted her skirts near her waist, she thought ruefully of the last time she had worn such an elaborate gown, sometime near 1910 when petticoats were still considered hip everyday garb. You would rather live like the scum of the earth, in that little brown hovel you call a house, in bourgeois paradise. “I knew of course that you were at the Montressor’s, but I had no idea that it was a music hall party afterwards. My opportunities have been immense, and my failure utter. Melusine glanced towards the elderly dame and found that sharp gaze directed upon her.
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