” He was bereft of words for a moment, and in that moment she escaped, having passed him on deftly to one of the later arrivals. She went on her way now no longer dreaming and appreciative, but disturbed and unwillingly observant behind her mask of serene contentment. Only an undermaid I was then. “It’s like Troy!” said a voice of rapture. Stories … love stories: and to-morrow she would know the joy of reading them! It was almost unbelievable; it was too good to be true. ‘Certainly, if I was a nun, I know of many good names. She looked in the glass over and over as she checked for lint and makeup streaks. A rare moment of amusement lightened Melusine’s mood for a moment. “Well, hello there.
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