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She made up her mind in the train home that it should be a decisive crisis. “Believe me, I know. ‘I don’t think you need do that, Melusine—if I may call you so. E. I shall have to discover one suitable. She kept her eyes closed. “Yes. Instinct had forced her to create something out of rags to satisfy a mysterious craving. Why, that boy could hide for thirty years—without the girl. She’d prefer that I read classic literature, of course, but she only reads paperback romance novels, so she can’t exactly complain. He dressed rather after the fashion of the West End than the City, and affected a cultured urbanity that somehow disconcerted and always annoyed Ann Veronica’s father extremely. Small, but eminently serviceable.
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