‘She wants me to marry her. Grandmothers and grandfathers and uncles and aunts … to love and to coddle lonely little girls. Your lamented mother, whose loss I shall ever deplore, perceived my passion and encouraged it. The old man Pottiswick, still grumbling, much to Melusine’s disgust, had gone on his errand to his daughter’s house some two miles distant. I ought to have seen—” “It doesn’t matter a rap—if you’re not disposed to resent the—the way I behaved. Even on cool days the gardens were colorful and bright, with orange trees emanating sweetness and bumblebees drunkenly weaving from flower to flower. Had it not been for the Plague, she might have had her own babies.
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