The moral right of the author has been asserted. “Julian, please, let’s go to your place. She twanged the catgut under her fingers. “And to think that it’s not a full year ago since I was a black-hearted rebel school-girl, distressed, puzzled, perplexed, not understanding that this great force of love was bursting its way through me! All those nameless discontents—they were no more than love’s birth-pangs. ’ ‘Truly?’ asked Melusine, warmth lighting her bosom. Sebastian traveled at seventy, eighty, then one-hundred down the freeway.
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