"I'm tired of the life I'm leading. ‘I don’t want a hue and cry after me, I thank you. ” He took his place by her side, and they talked lightly of London, the shops and people. Ann Veronica was not ready enough to deal with that counter-stroke. Teenagers buzzed about her newly discovered talent for the violin in the same sentences as they gossiped about her torrid police scandal and a lost mother who remained in the deep shadows of murder mystery. What was it in her heart or mind or soul that went out to this man? Music—was that it? Was he powerless to stir her without the gift? But hadn't he fascinated her by his talk, gentle and winning? Ah, but that had been after he had played for her. ” “No,” said Ann Veronica, offhandedly. ‘You have made a serious mistake, Melusine.
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