“Yes. I’m ashamed to confess it, but I didn’t want the charge of you—a too close reminder of my own lost babe. ’ Gerald laughed, and turned back to Melusine, who was frowning again. As the secret door opened, the sounds within the house came at once to her ears: the tramping of feet above, and the hoarse voices echoing through the mansion. His baggy shorts sagged over knobby knees that tapered into decrepit Reebok sneakers. But it looked as if the boy was not going to be of much use. “Only four spoonsful left,” she declared briskly, “and your turn to buy the next pound, Sydney. The weather's been foul enough for the last fortnight, but I've never turned my back upon it. ‘But I’ve known that for years. Drowning, her brain dizzy, Melusine clung to the source of the flooding warmth, her hands, no longer forcibly held, moving without will about the firm back.
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