‘So that’s true, is it?’ ‘Certainly it is true,’ Melusine said, opening her eyes wide. He was always doing his best to call her attention to the fact that he was a man of spirit and quality and experience, and she a young and beautiful woman, and that all sorts of constructions upon their relationship were possible, trusting her to go on from that to the idea that all sorts of relationships were possible. And all this time perhaps you have been waiting, expecting to hear from me. They were bathing in the stream. There he was, standing with a group of men who she presumed to be the other richest men in the world. She took to listening through closed doors. If he took a fancy to you, he invited you to the house for tea, bitter and yellow and served in little cups without handles. When she arrived at the Palazzo, not a single sentry was aware of her presence. Over the sea of heads arose a black and dismal object.
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