Leastways, she’d be your greataunt, wouldn’t she?’ Astounded, Melusine was just about to demand further information, when a commotion outside the room interrupted her. He had not bothered to take off his raincoat and his umbrella sat dripping on his modern ice cube of a table. Spurling, who did not dare to exhibit her satisfaction otherwise than by privately pinching the arm of her expected husband. Had she said the words aloud? He pulled her close and she nuzzled her head on his chest. "The poor young man!" she said. ’ Melusine did not reply. Her husband stared at her over the candle flame.
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