’ Melusine watched with a tightness in her chest as Captain Roding kept hold of Lucy’s hand, even as he turned back to Prudence. Every now and then something familiar in her tone, the poise of her head, the play of her eyes startled him. She had been sitting on the bench for two and a half hours, which was uneventful except for the homeless men who begged for change. ’ ‘Must we talk of it? I’m trying to forget it. We have only those phantoms called memories, which are the husks of dreams. I told him instantly and shamelessly that the play was going to be worth ten thousand pounds. So often as she had herself manipulated a dagger, she could not mistake the shape that pressured across her chest, or the sharp point that dug below her bosom.
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