She reflected upon that with a thrill of terror that was also, somehow, in some faint remote way, gleeful. Get me an interview with her. ‘Hilary, you must stop referring to mademoiselle as “she”. I wish”— she found she had embarked on a bad sentence—“I wish we needn’t have quarrelled. . But a man is a mixed creature. There were the burnt papers still in the grate. Soon I shall make my début, that it will be known that I am the real Melusine Charvill, and then I shall not require the services any longer of this imbecile of a Gérard.
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