But some day she would find a place to love: there would be rosy apples on the boughs, and there would be flurries of snow blowing into her face. ’ Melusine shrugged. ’ ‘But you must,’ Gerald said, quite as if he meant it. She was sorry for his liking her too much for his own good, but her need was too desperate to cavil at turning it to useful account. “May you have as much good fortune as you deserve, but not enough to make you forget us. ‘Who is that man? What has he to do with you? No, don’t tell me.
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