“Why can’t you tell people that you are what you are? Why all the secrecy?” She looked beyond the farmhouse. Melusine ran up the stairway after him, her point flailing to frighten him into allowing her access to the chapel. I was stupid—stupid and impulsive beyond measure to burst upon you in this way. I didn’t go out of my way or anything. He had the air of a man who has said too much. “Mr. ” “I am Mrs. ‘You do not say, “I am a gentleman born. “What did it matter?” she cried. She could see over a waist high stone wall into the miniature courtyard, complete with benches only a small child could sit upon, one which had been broken in half, its two pieces left unjoined on the sandy ground.
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