Chapter Eight For an instant in the silence that followed, shocked into immobility, Melusine stared in horror at the body lying there so still. But that's an infirmity shared by a great many sounder heads than mine. My dear! we’ve had so many moments! I used to go over the times we’d had together, the things we’d said—like a rosary of beads. He could not tell whether she was English or American. But she wished she could put the thing she had done in some way to them so that it would not hurt them so much as the truth would certainly do. ” “What did you say?” “I said, ‘My dear Veronica! how can you think of such things?’” “And then?” “She had two more cups of tea and some cake, and told me of her walk. I killed him, Nigel.
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