” “Why not?” She turned on him. ” “It’s a very good image,” said Ann Veronica. But I had to know for sure. ” Her aunt answered in a low voice: “I was engaged to him, dear, for seven years, and then he died. She wondered why he was so distinctive, so unlike other men, and it never occurred to her for some time that this might be because she was falling in love with him. Her skin prickled. I know something about men. I’ve a dread of love dropping its petals, becoming mean and ugly. It might be three yards in width, and a few more in length; but it was covered with ooze and slime, and the waves continually broke over it. “Do you play an instrument?” “I play the fiddle sometimes. ‘It was a good chance for a new life,’ Joan explained, venturing to face Melusine again, ‘and Martha took it.
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