No umbrella either, the sky was delightfully overcast. ‘Stand where you are, or I shoot!’ Like lightning, thoughts zipped through her mind. ‘You do not want to be a nun,’ he said now, and Melusine noted with a prick at her senses the irritation in his tone. But in a moment she believed she understood. This is the first act. That terrible laughter, just before his senses had left him! Why? Here was a word that volleyed at her from all directions, numbed and bewildered her: the multiple echoes of her own first utterance of the word. Let me engage myself.
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