“What’s odd?” “Oh, everything!” She shivered, and went to the fire and poked it. Sebastian administered bitter tonics to her, fluids she could not taste with her swollen tongue. It would have given me intense satisfaction to have been able to catch a French spy. How long wilt thou forget me, O Lord? for ever? How long wilt thou hide thy face from me? She came upon the Song of Songs—which had been pasted down in the Enschede Bible—the burning litany of love; and from time to time she intoned some verse of tender lyric beauty. Melusine did not try to fight her captor, for that would only make him angry. She learned that she could orgasm four or five times in a day as they toyed with each other and slept entire days afterward without feeling a single pang of guilt. Gerald’s voice came back to her, saying that she could not hope to outwit “a man who means business”. She had fled back to Florence quite intent on slitting the new bride’s throat. ‘Why did he make me French, Marthe? Why did he give me this name of Melusine, and say I am born of Suzanne Valade?’ Martha looked at her, but her lips remained firmly closed. "And now," she added, with somewhat more composure, "leave me, dear friends, I entreat, for a few minutes to collect my scattered thoughts—to prepare myself for what I have to go through—to pray for my son. “I wish that I could forget it,” he said.
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