Well, I don't blame you on that ground. But I am always afraid that he may get in while I am away. He is in the secret passage. ’ ‘Was it yours?’ Insulted beyond bearing, Melusine lost her temper. Beyond was a chaise longue, covered with cushions and shawls laid anyhow across it, together with a discarded tapestry in the making, and a scattering of woollen threads about it. She had carried a chair into the room veranda and had watched and listened until the night silences had lengthened and only occasionally she heard a voice or the rattle of rickshaw wheels in the courtyard.
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