She grew attached to a pair of twins, a boy named Fritz and a girl named Anna, belonging to an auburn-haired Viennese prostitute named Clotilde. After all, what did it matter?—it or anything else in the world? She was within reach of his arms, beautiful, compelling, herself as it seemed suddenly conscious of the light which was burning in his eyes. Lucy treaded down two steps, stunned. ’ Chapter Twelve In the elegantly appointed blue saloon, Melusine sat disconsolate, gazing out of the window at the dull sky. Something seemed to dredge up from the recesses of her memory and she brightened. The three clerks fought for the only window, and saw her whisked into a hansom. “I love you, Anna, and I want you for my wife.
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