’ ‘No, you are a gentleman,’ she agreed. ’ ‘Eh bien, you are not a saint,’ Melusine snapped. It might have been the moon, or the phosphorescence of the broken water, or it might have been his abysmal loneliness; but suddenly he caught her face in his hands and kissed her on the mouth. It was hard to resist. All three, then, burst into an immoderate fit of laughter. But what he did say is that he thinks the Valades will receive very short shrift from his greatuncle the general. The eyes left him, searching beside the chair for her cane.
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