He dropped the key on the counterpane. Melusine turned to look at the walls, and saw, immediately opposite, set between two candelabra above a marquetry side table, a gilded mirror. The carpenter threw himself flat upon the starling to avoid the fury of the wind. There was a wall; she was always encountering it; the one time she was able to break through this wall was when the part in his hair was crooked. She crept into the living room and turned off the set, adjusting Cathy’s blanket which had fallen to the carpeted floor. “It’s like this,” he said, and dragged a stool beside her and sat down with his elbow four inches from hers and made a sketch. ‘Now be sensible, Melusine, and let me help you. She is no more English than that set of beggars over there.
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