‘Her name is Melusine Charvill,’ Gerald began. ‘Dieu du ciel, is this a way to have me say yes? If it is that you do not wish to, why do you ask me?’ ‘Ah. It was obvious that he had waited for her. It was a gorgeous May evening, the air redolent with the soapy purple scents of hyacinth and lilac. It seemed intolerable that she should go home and admit herself beaten. “I wonder which of us is right,” she said. She stole her glances sideways like the rest of the women. ‘I am glad it is you, because you can help me.
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