“And think, think”—her voice sank —“of the horrible coarseness!” “What coarseness?” said Ann Veronica. She leaned forward, her chin in her palms, her elbows on her knees, and she set her gaze upon his face and kept it there in dreamy contemplation. ’ ‘You didn’t care. They must have a key. But there is something in your voice that makes me distrust you. He grew even harder. ’ Melusine’s heart twisted. It might have been the moon, or the phosphorescence of the broken water, or it might have been his abysmal loneliness; but suddenly he caught her face in his hands and kissed her on the mouth. It is no more a murder, but a duel, you understand. They were sounding more and more like Civic every day.
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