The great ordeal—that which she had most dreaded—had proved to be no ordeal at all. I am your husband, though as yet your hand has scarcely lain in mine. Looked all over that dratted convent of yours—or at least Trodger and the men did so—but no sign of them. What he wanted desperately was to be alone. He was even a little jealous of Sebastian. “We are only in the dawn of the Age of Friendship,” he said, “when interest, I suppose, will take the place of passions. ’ ‘I will tell you how I make that out,’ Melusine said fiercely.
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