‘If you did not want me to talk of it,’ she told him with characteristic insouciance, ‘you should not have mentioned the matter to me. ’ Her lashes fluttered. Everything was blurred. In the struggle the pistol went off, but without damage to either party. ‘What was you wanting it for, may I ask?’ ‘You may not ask, for it is none of your affair,’ Melusine snapped. She uncrossed her legs and lowered herself, carefully and slowly, until she lay supine. Beneath the hood it was evident that her rebellious hair was bound up with red silk, and fastened by some device in her ears (unless she had them pierced, which was too dreadful a thing to suppose!) were long brass filigree earrings. She was beautiful once, Lucia. . It is for that reason that this novel begins with her there, and neither earlier nor later, for it is the history of this crisis and its consequences that this novel has to tell. It was dry, as if she had powdered it.
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