It worked. . “His love-making,” she remarked, “struck me as unconvincing. Plays Beethoven, Rubenstein and all those chaps. He had but to give his orders. It was Sebastian’s fault for slapping her face and letting the baby out. And instead of accepting the situation gratefully, he felt vaguely hurt! One evening in September a proa rasped in upon the beach. The shops were lighting up into gigantic lanterns of color, the street lamps were glowing into existence, and she had lost her way. ’ Chapter Twelve In the elegantly appointed blue saloon, Melusine sat disconsolate, gazing out of the window at the dull sky. Her eyes were dilated— fixed in a horrified stare at the parting in the curtains which hung before the window. The boy’s besotted. “You are not boring me,” she said, “but I would rather talk of something else.
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