It was some time later, after a series of these devastating assaults, that Melusine found herself seated on the sofa lately vacated by Lucilla and Captain Roding, cuddled firmly in the arms of a major of militia reduced quite to idiocy. The very old lady in the antimacassar touched Ann Veronica’s arm suddenly, and said, in a deep, arch voice: “Talking of love again; spring again, love again. “He dissembles,” he said. Melusine stepped back a pace, her gaze fixed on the vision before her. Wood then took to his heels, and never once looked behind him till he reached his own dwelling in Wych Street.
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