“I was sick of the make-believe. She was ashamed of herself for the simple gladness she felt wash over her as the infant’s screams ended. They went down the great staircase of the building, and, while she sought in her mind for a beginning, he broke into appreciation of her simple dress and selfcongratulations upon their engagement. That was an admission all right. ‘And what the devil do you mean by demanding that I wait on you here? D’you think I haven’t enough to do handling that caper-witted female’s affairs, without dancing attendance on you?’ ‘Don’t be cross,’ begged Lucilla, much to Melusine’s disgust.
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