His eyes were bright, and his voice had in it an unaccustomed timbre. ‘No, no, Jacques, you have done very right. Still, I suppose Melusine can always sell the house. “You must not think of me as one. She realized more and more the quality of the brink upon which she stood—the dreadful readiness with which in certain moods she might plunge, the unmitigated wrongness and recklessness of such a self-abandonment. At times I swear I’ve never met a more jaded fifteen-year-old, and your lie about being sixteen didn’t get by me for one second, believe it. Already the seed of a tender dream was stirring. "I'm surprised you've not asked that question before, Sir Rowland.
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