The music took hold of her slowly as her eyes wandered from the indistinct still ranks of the audience to the little busy orchestra with its quivering violins, its methodical movements of brown and silver instruments, its brightly lit scores and shaded lights. Here was the place behind the shed where she had used to hide from Roddy’s persecutions, and here the border of herbaceous perennials under whose stems was fairyland. ’ ‘Merci, Gérard,’ Melusine muttered under her breath, adding aloud, ‘And the major, he will also wish that you let me go to see Jacques. But they were too late.
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