Only it was with a further and most unbelieving shrug of the shoulders that he resumed his seat. Know that, don’t you?’ ‘Of course I know it,’ Lucy told him, and Melusine read the whisper in her mouth of those precious words, ‘I love you. Let her see what she could make here. Believe me, the bitterness of it has almost departed, crushed out of me together with much of the weariness and sorrow I brought with me here by the nameless glory of these lonely months. Through fire and water, through penury and pestilence, your hand will always be on his shoulder.
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