’ Total bullshit, if you ask me. “Garçon,” he said, “will you ask the gentleman at the next table if he will do me the honour of taking a glass of wine with me. She saw his eyes glaze over. Something softened in Melusine’s chest. In a sense I don’t care. Or he would find something—a wave in her hair, a little line in the contour of her brow or neck, that made an exquisite discovery. “Indeed, I must implore you to return. "How long will he be laid up?" "Three or four weeks, if he doesn't peg out during the night. "How very like it is!" "Not so strange, surely," laughed Thames, "that a picture should resemble the person for whom it's intended.
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