’ ‘Gone off?’ repeated Melusine, her wrongs rising up to tear into her chest. She gave me an impression of a sort of patched quilt; little bits of patterned stuff coming up again and again. If, when he returned, he blew out the light, she would go to bed; but if the light burned on for any length of time, she would go silently to the study curtain to learn if his agony was still upon him. ‘What in God’s name is going on?’ Glancing swiftly towards the doorway, Gerald saw his friend’s disbelieving face and burst out, speaking over the top of Melusine as she made another grab for the little square of linen.
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