She wondered if he was already tired of her, if he would rudely push her away as one would a prostitute. "What should I do here alone if I were an enemy? But, come, don't let us waste time in bandying words, when we might employ it so much more profitably. If she returns to the house from which we took her, her companions will laugh at her and smother her with ridicule. “Look after her! Why not? But you have done it all your life. The stretch of red dirt disappeared into a stretch of trees like Van Gogh’s painting. No more. ’ ‘Then do it,’ Melusine said with impatience. Its parents have perished. The life of a girl presented itself to her as something happy and heedless and unthinking, yet really guided and controlled by others, and going on amidst unsuspected screens and concealments. Her life hangs upon a thread, and this may snap it.
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