‘That is true,’ Melusine conceded. Cowering in a corner upon a heap of straw sat his unfortunate mother, the complete wreck of what she had been. It was she who felt guilty as he showed her their bedroom, smelling her perfume, ingesting their psychic leftovers. Give me the keys and the light. Wood—and after him came his daughter. Something namelessly abhorrent in the eyes of those men…! She knew what arms were for—to fold and embrace and to hold one tightly; but why men wished to kiss women was still a profound mystery. So far the thing was acceptable enough. He began munching his water-chestnuts—a small brown radish-shaped vegetable, with the flavour of coconut—that grow along the river brims. She refrained.
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