His first wife. ‘They’ve gone, miss,’ came the answer, muffled through the panel door. It seemed incredible that she and her aunt were, indeed, creatures of the same blood, only by a birth or so different beings, and part of that same broad interlacing stream of human life that has invented the fauns and nymphs, Astarte, Aphrodite, Freya, and all the twining beauty of the gods. Chapter Eight For an instant in the silence that followed, shocked into immobility, Melusine stared in horror at the body lying there so still. “Where would you like to go? Are you hungry?” “No. But underneath this tolerance there is always the vague hope that your manhood will someday reassert itself.
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