At the present moment she was living in a world of her own creation, a carnival of brave men and fair women, characters out of the tales she had so newly read for the first time. I do not want to get only a second-hand flavour of life. " There had never been, from that fatal hour eight months gone down to this, the inclination to confess. She was greatly exercised by the problem of confiding in the Widgetts; they were dears, and she talked away two evenings with Constance without broaching the topic; she made some vague intimations in letters to Miss Miniver that Miss Miniver failed to mark. ‘She would not tell me. Walking into the bedroom, she quickly shed the miniskirt and sweater, folding them without ceremony. ‘You could not tell it,’ said Melusine, ‘unless you were as close as we.
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