” The suitcase loomed in her memory, making its presence felt once again. Slowly Prudence Sindlesham nodded her head, her eyes never leaving his face. Her fancy dress, save for the green-gray stockings, the pseudo-Turkish slippers, and baggy silk trousered ends natural to a Corsair’s bride, was hidden in a large black-silk-hooded operacloak. He was always drawing contrasts between a woman’s lot and a man’s, and treating her as a wonderful new departure in this comparison. At the back of her mind, Melusine noted an odd look in the boy’s face, but there was no time to explore it.
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