Felix. It now came to him with an added thrill how well she had told her story; simply and directly, no skipping, no wandering hither and yon: from the first hour she could remember, to the night she had fled in the proa, a clear sustained narrative. She closed her eyes, discerning the divinations he had been up to during her violin concert. If the boy was legging it alone…. She pulled at his tee shirt again, wishing to feel his naked chest upon hers. ‘Melusine, don’t sit there. “What do you want to go out here for, Lucy?” He 217 asked. There was no one to be seen.
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