When I carried you up here like a bride, that is the way I wanted us to be, Mary Lucia. Something with iron resolve the father had kept hidden all these years in the lonely citadel of his heart. You were afraid of me, afraid that I should have been shocked, afraid of the scandal. ‘You’ll come with us and get yourself safe back home to your convent, understand?’ ‘But wait,’ begged Melusine, hanging back. He seemed to be thinking hard. She thought of her aunt and that purse that was dropped on the table, and of many troublesome and ill-requited kindnesses; she thought of the help of the Widgetts, of Teddy’s admiration; she thought, with a new-born charity, of her father, of Manning’s conscientious unselfishness, of Miss Miniver’s devotion. He wanted to know what the joke against him was—if any. “Come right in,” he hissed under his breath, with the true conspirator’s note, closed the door very softly and pointed, “Through there!” By the meagre light of a gas lamp she perceived a cobbled yard with four large furniture vans standing with horses and lamps alight. He would have to go on; he would be forced to enact all the obligations he had imposed upon himself. Melusine fetched her stool and plonked it down next to her great-aunt’s chair.
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