Her knees almost sank beneath her as she raised the latch of the front door and looked out. We can’t afford to turn our women, our Madonnas, our Saint Catherines, our Mona Lisas, our goddesses and angels and fairy princesses, into a sort of man. Nevertheless, one day Sebastian looked at her and said, “Your smile today is delightful, my Lucia. ’ ‘And you do not know me. ‘Here were you patiently waiting, without uttering one word of complaint the entire time, which of course you never do, being yourself a female altogether of a disposition extremely sweet and charming without the least vestige of a temper—’ ‘Gérard,’ Melusine uttered on a warning note, desperately trying to control the quiver at her lip.
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