He kissed her again. ’ ‘You mean monsieur le baron, the General Charvill, my grandfather?’ Melusine laid aside on the table the letter she had been studying and turned so that the frame of her nun’s wimple no longer obscured her view. “It’s just that he doesn’t seem like your type. There was no broken faith—not even any question of anything of the sort. Disillusion stands in one doorway of our house and Mockery in the other. She noted the dank hair on his forehead, the sweat of revolting nature. She cursed Satan and screamed at the heavens, praying to Mary frantically. Something insisted that those two were mysteriously linked—that the woman knew the man was there. The children made us slaves, and the men took advantage of it. “Well, I do.
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