He needed to laugh, but only she laughed as he chuckled weakly. She had traversed perhaps three bookshelves, passed across the door that must lead to the hall, turned the corner, and was just about to reach the fireplace when she abruptly became aware that something under her fingers had felt wrong. "You have said," pursued the widow, "that she, who has once erred, is irreclaimable. To the poor carpenter it seemed an endless distance. He drew a little breath of relief. Her straight strawberry blonde hair was exactly Cathy’s. ‘This is the way you tell me that you love me? You English idiot, you!’ He seized her wrists to hold her off, actually daring to laugh, much to Melusine’s increased fury.
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