She walked down the station approach, past the neat, obtrusive offices of the coal merchant and the house agent, and so to the wicket-gate by the butcher’s shop that led to the field path to her home. ’ Chapter Nine As she devoured the simple meal of bread and cheese, and several slices of cold roast beef, the whole washed down with a poor sort of coffee, Melusine listened with avid interest to the details of her mother’s life as revealed by the exclamatory conversation of Joan Ibstock. When he said, “Let’s go and see the wart-hog,” she thought no one ever had had so quick a flow of good ideas as he; and when he explained that sugar and not buns was the talisman of popularity among the animals, she marvelled at his practical omniscience. The fact that it was her trusted friend making illicit love to her remained, in spite of all her effort, an insignificant thing in her mind. It was open. I will remember them, Sebastian, along with my mother and father, and all the others I came to love and lose. She could not risk going in the door, lest she run into Larry or Cathy drinking a nocturnal glass of milk or Mike raiding the refrigerator for snacks. Ah, Thierry and Poussaint, if my memory serves me. I bring you tidings of an old friend. She untucked his starched shirt, running her hands along his smooth torso and underneath his arms.
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