“I’ve fallen in love. ’ ‘Melusine,’ shrieked the nun. ‘Now then, missie, where do you think you’re going?’ ‘I must see Jacques only for one little minute,’ Melusine told him prettily, fluttering her lashes. His head was small and bullet-shaped, and he did not wear a wig, but had his sleek black hair cut off closely round his temples. He advanced a step towards her. ‘Ah, there is the little menace itself,’ he drawled, recovering some of his own sangfroid. Let me see now. ‘Now be sensible, Melusine, and let me help you. . Spurling, as if struck by a sudden idea. She leaped to a world of shabby knowledge, of furtive base realizations. Here were the passionate lovers! What their past had been he neither cared nor craved to know. You met Sir Rowland at the house of a Romisch priest, Father Spencer.
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