Never again would he repeat that kiss; but at night when they separated, he would touch her forehead with his lips, and sometimes he would hold her hand in his and pat it. She laughed softly, and leaned across the table. He would make her rub her lips with waxes and other ointments, precursors of lipsticks. . ‘Yes, miss. Now lend me your own hand. Disillusion stands in one doorway of our house and Mockery in the other. “Come,” he continued, “the world after all is a very small place. ’ Melusine edged a little away from the portrait.
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