‘There’s no controlling you, is there?’ He held up his hands. There, after protestations of friendliness and helpfulness that were almost ardent, he mounted a little clumsily and rode off at an amiable pace, looking his best, making a leg with his riding gaiters, smiling and saluting, while Ann Veronica turned northward and so came to Micklechesil. Voilà tout, as Melusine herself would say. Entranced, he stared at the name. That was the true marvel of it. Stay me with flagons, comfort me with apples, for I am sick of love. Of the vast mass of these impressions Ann Veronica could make nothing at the time; there they were—Fact! She stored them away in a mind naturally retentive, as a squirrel stores away nuts, for further digestion. Did he see him, this Monsieur Charvill?’ ‘I don’t rightly know, miss,’ confessed Kimble. 48 <6> THE FRIDAY NIGHT SHOW The air was chill and the sky overcast and misting.
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