I am tired, and I want to be alone. She stared down at them from a high window, peering down at their moonlit faces in the bed heavy with furs, the same bed where she had given birth to Gianfrancesco’s dead son. . His pale and boyish waist was nearly as slim as her own. It seems that he was a sort of family friend of the Pellissiers, and it was the artist sister whom he was with. It did not matter in the least what name the young fellow was travelling under; all James Boyle O'Higgins wanted was the letter H. Melusine turned and turned, unable to imagine just where the secret door could be.
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