In one of the cabins a man sat on the edge of his narrow bunk. That world of fine printed cambrics and escorted maidens, of delicate secondary meanings and refined allusiveness, presented itself to her imagination with the brightness of a lost paradise, as indeed for many women it is a lost paradise. ’ ‘Eh?’ Gerald grinned at Hilary’s blank expression, and was gratified when the girl turned a brilliant smile upon himself. Small, but eminently serviceable. ‘What was Leonardo to you?’ Melusine was instantly on the defensive. Clothes. She ran her gaze over him, and allowed her eyelashes to flutter down. So the world is choked with waste and waiting daughters.
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