It was as if the Devil himself had raped and defiled her mother. ’ ‘Do not hope it,’ returned Melusine, snapping uncontrollably. “Eight, Cavendish Square. Before I met you I never met any one whom I felt I could love, but you have discovered depths in my own nature I had scarcely suspected. Were I a painter of subject pictures, I would exhaust all my skill in proportion and perspective and atmosphere upon the august seat of empire, I would present it gray and dignified and immense and respectable beyond any mere verbal description, and then, in vivid black and very small, I would put in those valiantly impertinent vans, squatting at the base of its altitudes and pouring out a swift, straggling rush of ominous little black objects, minute figures of determined women at war with the universe. She infused menace into her voice.
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