Did I not say so, Hilary?’ Melusine’s glance shot across to the newcomer, and found a petite blonde standing there, very fashionably attired in a velvet mantel over an apple-green robe, the furred hood framing a face alive with mischief. He was all alone, too. ” “I can assure you,” he answered, “that it isn’t a habit of mine. . . ” She shrugged her shoulders. Superstition—you knock into it whichever way you turn. ‘Where is Gérard?’ ‘Out of town,’ Hilary said briefly. ” “It’s the perpetual trouble,” he said, “of parent and child. “Stupid cow.
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