It was a moment or two before Gerald realised that he could feel the fluttering of her pulse beneath the light touch he had on her wrist, and that her fingers were trembling in his. “Garçon,” he said, “will you ask the gentleman at the next table if he will do me the honour of taking a glass of wine with me. Remember what the conjuror said. ” Carolyn shushed him modestly. That her husband was not touching her anymore grew to be like a disease, something to be cured. ‘You would say that already then you love me?’ His glance was a caress and Melusine’s resolve weakened. She was frowning, but it was evident that her initial fright had left her.
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