“I cannot pretend that I am glad to see you, Lady Ferringhall,” he said quietly. Treat me as an elder brother, if you like. I’ve bored you or something. She was given a glimpse of his soul. I have never in my life been so much puzzled by any one as by your sister. All at once Melusine remembered Pottiswick, and the errand he had run. It was something you were supposed to return, so she raced through all the television shows that she had watched over the years. “You see, father,” she said, “it isn’t only this affair of the dance. The dream flowers and is harvested, and we are left by the wayside, having served our singular purpose in the scheme of progress: as the orange is tossed aside when sucked of its ruddy juice. She would never love him as she loved Capes, of course, but there are grades and qualities of love.
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