“Not only that,” he answered. ’ The lady looked unexpectedly smug. Melusine’s heart jumped and she felt heat rising into her cheeks. He would never be able to compose upon it, but it would serve to produce the finished work. “Nothing. The key is in my trousers. ” He was a little bewildered. ‘Eh bien?’ She thrust again, from the same place. Ann Veronica found herself incompetent, undignified, and detestable, holding on desperately to a hardening antagonism to her father, quarrelling with him, wrangling with him, thinking of repartees—almost as if he was a brother.
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