I took the usual way home. “Well,” she admitted. ‘Melusine, if you don’t let go my hand—’ He broke off as she dragged a pocket handkerchief from her sleeve. ’ She eyed him. ‘Gone!’ he said. In this state of knowledge you will be horribly, irrevocably, alone. ” She was frightened—his anger always did frighten her—and in her resolve to conceal her fright she carried a queen-like dignity to what she felt even at the time was a preposterous pitch. Perhaps this was the real turning point: the hour in which the disordered mind began permanently to readjust itself.
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