There was a Greyhound bus that she was overdue to ride. “You’re. “But you’re wrong. ’ ‘Truly?’ asked Melusine, warmth lighting her bosom. I jumped then—I was not even shaken. . And like that gospel it meant something, something different from its phrases, something elusive, and yet something that in spite of the superficial incoherence of its phrasing, was largely essentially true. Lady Lescelles, graceful, very fashionably but quietly dressed, leaned back and watched her with shrewd kindly eyes. “It is an annoyance, my friend,” she said, “not a tragedy.
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