He did like her, anyhow; he was always pleased to be with her. ’ The familiar hollow opened up inside Melusine’s chest, and she could not prevent the husky note that entered her voice. It was drafty and cold most of the time, but she found that she was not nearly as sensitive to the cold as long as he was 99 there to warm her up. ‘Dead then, is he?’ ‘If I could say that he is dead, it would give me very much satisfaction. He then unfolded his choice and held it before her face. It seemed incredible that she and her aunt were, indeed, creatures of the same blood, only by a birth or so different beings, and part of that same broad interlacing stream of human life that has invented the fauns and nymphs, Astarte, Aphrodite, Freya, and all the twining beauty of the gods.
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