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Without a single ornament about her neck, or hair, wearing the plainest of black gowns, out of which her shoulders shone gleaming white, she was easily the most noticeable and the most distinguished-looking woman in the room. “My dear Vee!” Her voice became very low. Gianfrancesco had been talked into the arrangement only because the drivers that had handled the job for generations were sick or dead. Loving was self-forgetfulness, pure delighting in another human being. Melusine, used to the stark surroundings of the convent at Blaye, had no complaint to make. I might add that in any case I should not touch Sir John’s.
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