. He began to tell me something—and stopped. The Becks as a 187 family didn’t talk or ruminate over Mike’s or Lucy’s past much. Yet her aunt, with a ringed hand flitting to her lips and a puzzled, worried look in her eyes, deaf to all this riot of warmth and flitting desire, was playing Patience—playing Patience, as if Dionysius and her curate had died together. I wanted something alive. ’ She moved to Melusine’s side as she spoke. But such is the perversity of the human that frequently thereafter he purposely crooked the part in his hair, to give her the excuse to fetch the comb.
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