. Melusine ripped at the buttons of the garment, dragging it open and away, and gasped at the massive red stain on his shirt. Nor is Theresa, or even Thérèse. She visited the corner that had been her own little garden—her forget-me-nots and candytuft had long since been elbowed into insignificance by weeds; she visited the raspberry-canes that had sheltered that first love affair with the little boy in velvet, and the greenhouse where she had been wont to read her secret letters. Come and see him, Lucia. On the contrary, it was impossible to look at him without perceiving that his resolution was unshaken. Darting quickly to the chest that contained the priest’s vestments, she leapt onto it and reached her arm down to scrabble behind it on the floor. “It would have been rash and unwise,” she said at the end of a meditation. Softly she rose to her feet.
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