‘Come, Hilary. They turned off at Glen Grove, a sleepy town of less than two hundred. Looked all over that dratted convent of yours—or at least Trodger and the men did so—but no sign of them. ’ ‘A mistake, I agree. Buried under various ancestral sixteenths, smothered under modern thought, liberty of action and bewildering variety of flesh-pots, it was still alive to the extent that it needed only his present state to resuscitate it in all its peculiar force. “Quite alone, sir. ’ ‘Yes, that is reasonable,’ agreed Melusine, nodding. Instead of English villas and cottages there were chalets and Italian-built houses shining white; there were lakes of emerald and sapphire and clustering castles, and such sweeps of hill and mountain, such shining uplands of snow, as she had never seen before. She could not help but admit that she liked being smiled at and addressed in the hallways by hordes of friendly faces.
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