Her hands wove through his black hair, luxuriating in its thickness. ‘I don’t think he deserved that, Melusine. Even now, my problems begin to catch up with me; they will discover me soon. For in life there is but one hour: an epic or an idyll: all other hours lead up to and down from it. I want you to turn me. Oh, the beautiful books! Romance, adventure, love stories! She gathered up the books in her arms and cuddled them, as a mother might have cuddled a child. She looked and felt like a fairy princess. And I'll have supper with you. Indeed, it is rather a matter of whose death is close. ’ ‘Indeed?’ Gerald said politely. I wanted to have something to give up. It was astonishing how seldom it was that his instincts betrayed him.
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