Yet I think that he will do it. She was no longer a confederate in that. Occasionally the canvas snapped as the wind veered slightly. They did not care— servant or master, it meant nothing. The wind blew in fitful gusts, and scattered the yellow leaves from the elms and horse-chestnuts. The immense disillusionment that awaited him! The devastating disillusionment! She had a vague desire to run after him, to state her case to him, to wring some understanding from him of what life was to her. She had been so busy with life that, for a vast gulf of time, as it seemed, she had given no thought to those ancient, imagined things of her childhood. Melusine sighed with relief at being alone at last and free to resume her search among the portraits. I found it on the beach, just sitting there nestled inside a piece of driftwood.
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