Chapter Eight For an instant in the silence that followed, shocked into immobility, Melusine stared in horror at the body lying there so still. “Why can’t we propagate by sexless spores, as the ferns do? We restrict each other, we badger each other, friendship is poisoned and buried under it!. Her answer was not quite ready. ’ ‘Damnation!’ ‘What the devil ails you?’ demanded his friend, striding forward. “Showtime!” Martin cried. "Ah, I see it all!" he cried, with a quick glance. There was a murmur or two among the watchers on the bench, but no one ventured to intervene again. Little did I imagine at the time that it was my own father to whom he referred.
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