The soil was identical, the climate; still, they would not bear the Olympian fruit, with its purple-lined jacket and its snow-white pulp. Turning to Melusine, he grabbed both her wrists and held her away from him, as if afraid that she might go for him. “I want to ask you a question,” he said. Martin managed to catch her after class the next day. ’ ‘Your husband?’ Gerald tutted. There was a concerted gasp of shock from both the black-garbed lad and the coachman. There was a strange quality of steel in this pretty creature. He would get her to come to tea with him, usually in a pleasant tea-room over a fruit-shop in Tottenham Court Road, and he would discuss his own point of view and hint at a thousand devotions were she but to command him.
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