Winds returned, the gardens withered, and roses would not bloom. We sha’n’t hang up on any misunderstanding. It was the girl. “In it lies the secret poison he used to turn you into an Oracle. She was a swan among geese, trying to look plain and dowdy. For a time she looked at no more apartments, and walked through gaunt and ill-cleaned streets, through the sordid under side of life, perplexed and troubled, ashamed of her previous obtuseness. ‘Melusine, don’t sit there. If I had known that you were here you should not have been kept waiting for a second. Wait, though. Only a book detective could dope this out.
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