I was the black sheep, I was hurried out of the way. The little pucker in her brows became more perceptible. And now she was discovering that even Nature was something of a liar, with her mirages and her horizons. She left for good after he fell asleep. “Dear me!” he said. ” He said. I want to enrich it with hangings and gladden it with verses. He himself, middle-aged, steeped in traditions of the City and moneymaking, very ill-skilled in all the lighter graces of life, as he himself well knew, could yet come to her invested with something of the halo of romance by the almost magical powers of an unlimited banking account. Any man might have endeavoured to protect himself in this fashion, a man with no one to care, with an unnameable terror at the thought (as if it mattered!) of being buried in alien earth, far from the familiar places he loved. He had found her in a communicative mood, and he used the accumulated skill of years in turning that to account. ‘But what way, Emile?’ ‘Your family, mademoiselle, the family of your father.
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