‘French? But what else?’ ‘I do not like Frenchmen,’ Melusine snapped. There was a long silence between them. I almost died from this flu. The old aspect of the place was gone. From time to time she would come upon a line of singular beauty or a paragraph full of haunting music; and these would send her rushing on for something that never happened. There were no doors in the bungalow; instead, there were curtains of strung bead and bamboo, always tinkling mysteriously. ’ ‘That is what you think? Let us try!’ ‘Don’t be idiotic!’ She was backing from him, reaching through one of the slits she had carefully manufactured in her petticoat. “Some day,” she answered. Is this a reason?’ ‘Not good enough? Now I had every hope that it would appeal to you.
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