She came very near that night to resolving that she would return to her home next morning. He shrieked with agony, and clung with desperate tenacity to the roughened stones. Where was this kindly world she had drawn so rosily in fancy? Disillusion everywhere. Besides, the sun had gone in and it looked like rain. ‘You mean that there is a rival Melusine to the one he has heard about? He does not. ’ This was Leonardo’s philosophy. We may meet—who can tell? But I will not be fettered, even though you would make the chains of roses. Melusine grasped the hilt of the sword she had been carefully holding, and came out into the light.
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