‘One of your countrymen, perhaps?’ The girl clammed up, the moon of her white face staring up at him in the darkness. I won’t even ask. You might tell the truth to some men, but never to him. I must stay a minute longer, if only to see you smile. She saw herself building up a life upon that —a life restrained, kindly, beautiful, a little pathetic and altogether dignified; a life of great disciplines and suppressions and extensive reserves. “I MUST speak to you,” he said. He looked fiercely and inquiringly from one to the other of his companions; but, though both of them were excessively frightened, neither appeared guilty. And so —’ ‘And so she was able to become my—’ Melusine did not say it, for wet-nurse no longer seemed appropriate. It was time to disappear, no more Becks, no more Spaghetti Nights, no more afternoon kisses in the park with John Diedermayer.
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