‘And I’d like to know what the devil—’ ‘Out of town?’ repeated Melusine, stupefied. She got into rows through meddling with their shoes and tennis-rackets, and had moments of carefully concealed admiration when she was privileged to see them just before her bedtime, rather radiantly dressed in white or pink or amber and prepared to go out with her mother. They were so nearly alike that the difference would be due to a shaky hand. It might have been the moon, or the phosphorescence of the broken water, or it might have been his abysmal loneliness; but suddenly he caught her face in his hands and kissed her on the mouth. “But of course it’s aunt’s doing really. I want to go to that because it’s a new experience, because I think it will be interesting and give me a view of things.
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