His shoulders were bent, his face was furrowed with wrinkles. ’ It was the Press who forced the identity upon me. ‘The old man who lives here, idiot. He felt his heart beat faster and faster—his self-restraint slipping away. The real ‘Alcide’,” she wound up with a faint smile across the table at him, “is here. Do you know what? You're some sea goddess and you're only fooling us. Our heads swim with the thought of being together. Gerald was instantly on the alert. ‘Very wise,’ commented Gerald. ‘He had run away with a Frenchwoman, you see, but Everett Charvill—I refer to the general—took care to conceal the matter. And so your Melusine is busy trying to prove that she is the real one.
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