253 < 32 > LUCY GOES TO DINNER Mike and Lucy trudged over to the Vorsack’s house. Voilà tout, as Melusine herself would say. ‘But you said—’ Gerald tutted. “I wonder what he takes me for?” When presently she got down from the stile a certain note of internal conflict, a touch of doubt, had gone from her warm-tinted face. It was a gorgeous May evening, the air redolent with the soapy purple scents of hyacinth and lilac. She is, in her way, a dear. There was nothing to be got out of the man. ‘It is to say goodbye, you understand.
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