’ Chapter Six Creeping along the dark narrow passage, with lantern held well ahead to keep her step steady on the uneven stones—and to warn her of the advent of rats— Melusine kept her long petticoats fastidiously clear of the dirt with an efficient hand, a habit she had learned in the convent. It resembled Mardi Gras, and she thought disdainfully of New Orleans. "I believe he's gone," he said, returning to Jonathan. She taught him all the lore she had; about bird-life and tree-life and the changing mysteries of the sea. For such of us as pretend to be wise—and we are but fools in a lesser degree—we know that humanity moves onward only by the impellant of fine dreams. We must wash out those stains up stairs, and burn the cloth. I had not seen the courtyard in many years and I was happy to dream of those times. I doubt I hold any interest for him anymore.
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