Lucilla broke across Melusine’s thoughts. But now it’s beads by the cask—like the hold of a West African trader. Washed in light from the vestry window, she held her ground, all thought at bay, bar the steel determination long ago instilled in her by her unconventional tutor. ’ The lady hesitated a moment, her eyes seeming to measure the distance between where he stood and the door. What she did not know, and what she was never to know, was that the divine fire was hers. There was a lapse of time, an interval of blackness; then he found his hand in hers and she was leading him at a run up the side of the mountain. He saw the expression on the girl's face and understood what it signified, that it was the reflected pattern of his own. How did you get your luggage out of the house? Wasn’t it—wasn’t it rather in some respects—rather a lark? It’s one of my regrets for my lost youth.
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