One glance through the window at that picturesque head had been sufficient. Ants. She tried to imagine herself “getting something,” to project herself as sitting down at a desk and writing, or as returning after her work to some pleasantly equipped and free and independent flat. Wanton! Had I been one, even God would have forgiven me, understanding. Only her face was clear, frail and delicate, almost flower-like, with the sad haunting eyes ever watching his. “Wow. But not today. ’ Melusine had crossed to the window that overlooked the front of the house, and was trying to peep through a crack in the shutters.
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