‘Pardon, mademoiselle, but perhaps your father went to England, after all, and —’ ‘My father went to Italy,’ interrupted Melusine, her heart tightening with the familiar sensation of loss. A thing which had mystified her since childhood, a smouldering wonder why it should be, and until now she had never felt the urge to investigate. What better way to be rid of him? ‘Jacques,’ she uttered urgently. When they reached the door, he kissed her 246 again. He was suddenly calm. "Hands off!" she exclaimed, "or you'll repent it. It was surely odd that her thought should pick up that picture and recast it so vividly. The hotel on the Peak had the aspect of a fairy castle.
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