The trees were graceful and brown, arching and fanning their golden leaves as if to shower with coins the pink-gold sky. The coach was slowing down, and he realised that they had arrived in Golden Square. Was she so fearful still? Roding shrugged and grimaced. “You asked me in to tea,” he protested. But he died when he was a child—long ago—long ago—long ago. “I mean REALLY independent. “Tell me more about this Martin Chen. Too much, perhaps. Men do not understand constancy as women do. Lucy kissed him on the cheek. Melusine—the real Melusine—evidently did not see him immediately, for her attention was on her descent from the high vehicle. She was civil, but she was obviously impatient to know his errand. But though she lied about pretty much everything else, she didn’t lie about that.
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