” They loitered under trees, they sat on mossy banks they gossiped on friendly benches, they came back to lunch at the “Star and Garter,” and talked their afternoon away in the garden that looks out upon the crescent of the river. Why should she trouble herself over that young fool, who was nothing to her; who, when he eventually sobered up, would not be able to recognize her, or if he did, as something phantasmagorical? Perhaps he should not apply the term "fool"; "unfortunate" might be the more accurate application. He was and always would be dramatizing his emotions; perpetually he would be confounding his actual with his imaginary self. ‘Gad, what a mess!’ Gerald pulled free, and Melusine broke back, staring at him. “I think that I know very well what I am saying,” she answered. ‘I recall my father speaking of you as a Remenham.
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