‘She won’t confide in you? Now, why?’ ‘Because that scoundrel Leonardo drummed it into her head that no man was to be trusted,’ Gerald announced viciously. ’ So that was it. ‘I do not remember the name,’ Melusine said, turning to Mrs Ibstock. You are my Sir Galahad, so faithful and true that it is a wonder you exist. She saw her life before her robbed of all generous illusions, the wrappered life unwrappered forever, vistas of dull responses, crises of makebelieve, years of exacting mutual disregard in a misty garden of fine sentiments. Abruptly she got out of bed, smoothed her sheet and straightened her pillow and lay down, and fell almost instantly asleep. Hugging him in the beautiful dress in front of the teenagers was strangely soothing to her. A coach was also in attendance, at a little distance.
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