The chair is in the veranda. ‘Flirting, Gerald? A new come-out for you. You brought your husband a large fortune, your people were well known in society, your family interest I have heard was useful to him in his parliamentary career. They knew they were all Bogey in disguise. ‘Marry an Englishman! Which Englishman?’ Melusine shrugged. “You see,” he said, “from my point of view you’re grown up— you’re as old as all the goddesses and the contemporary of any man alive. Under the circumstances you must permit me to be the best judge of the identity of the young lady who did me the honour, as an old family friend, of dining with me. You are NOT going to that ball!” Ann Veronica tried a less genial, more dignified note. Surely it was a dream.
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