" CHAPTER IX. ‘I trust you are cursing Valade, and not Melusine. It was no easy matter to determine her age, for, though she still retained a certain youthfulness of appearance, she had many marks in her countenance, usually indicating the decline of life, but which in her case were, no doubt, the result of constant and severe indisposition. She got into rows through meddling with their shoes and tennis-rackets, and had moments of carefully concealed admiration when she was privileged to see them just before her bedtime, rather radiantly dressed in white or pink or amber and prepared to go out with her mother. ‘Gad, what a mess!’ Gerald pulled free, and Melusine broke back, staring at him. A hollow plunge, echoed and re-echoed by the walls, marked his descent into the water.
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