I can’t tell anyone certain things about my life. Part 7 Then one day a little thing happened that clothed itself in significance. While he was thus occupied, he felt a rough grasp upon his arm, and presently afterwards Ben's lips approached close to his ear. ‘Melusine, if you don’t let go my hand—’ He broke off as she dragged a pocket handkerchief from her sleeve. The terror faded from her eyes. This mitigated her remorse enormously. The tension was palpable. She saw her discarded nun’s habit still on the floor and scooped it up. She had no idea what she should do. “What’s the objection?” “I suppose she ought to know?” said Gwen to her mother, trying to alter the key of the conversation.
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