’ Mischief overtook Melusine. She was at the end of girlhood and on the eve of a woman’s crowning experience. She tied the obi clumsily about her waist, then gently laid her hand on the bowed head. You could walk the city streets and with every blink you could take in a new sight of beauty so great that your heart would weep for it. It was a dark mysterious place, and what it was used for no one exactly knew; but it was called by those who had seen it the Well Hole. ‘And you mean this? Truly?’ ‘Entirely. ‘You are stubborn like a mule. Old and dilapidated, the widow's domicile looked the very picture of desolation and misery. She wanted to turn him.
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