She wedged the towel between her legs. “I am so sorry. ‘Do not think—’ he panted, ‘that I am finished—with you, mademoiselle. ‘Pardon, mademoiselle, but perhaps your father went to England, after all, and —’ ‘My father went to Italy,’ interrupted Melusine, her heart tightening with the familiar sensation of loss. “You found the flat easily?” said Capes in the pause. “I’ll go. The teacher turned towards the blackboard to inscribe the names of Capulet and Montague. She was almost tempted to tell him, if only to see the cracks of surprise and incredulity break the immobility of his yellow countenance. Oh God! pardon me. Directly in range stood the strange young man, although he was at the far side of the loft.
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