“A volatile temperament—yes, a volatile temperament,” Mr. E. For a moment she too had started and faltered in her exit from the room. “You understand, then,” he was saying, “you understand?” “I understand,” said Ann Veronica, tear-wet and flushed with a reciprocal passion, but standing up to him with an equality that amazed even herself, “I understand. . I am called Melusine. . Annabel, I cannot believe it. Her lover surely did not 223 understand the implications of what he had asked for and his lust blinded him to the realities of existence even now. She wants that and needs it more than anything else in the world. ‘No one is here, Melusine, except you and I. There is something inconglomerate about us.
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