” Anna laid down her serviette. Niece and aunt regarded each other for a moment over their pockethandkerchiefs with watery but antagonistic eyes, each far too profoundly moved to see the absurdity of the position. So was I, in fact. Chapter Eight For an instant in the silence that followed, shocked into immobility, Melusine stared in horror at the body lying there so still. She is something different. She mentioned, with familiar respect, Christ and Buddha and Shelley and Nietzsche and Plato. “So am I. “Grail!” said Ann Veronica, and then: “Oh, yes—of course! Anything but a holy one, I’m afraid. He worried me to marry him.
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