’ Chapter Twelve In the elegantly appointed blue saloon, Melusine sat disconsolate, gazing out of the window at the dull sky. Cars rushed by on the street, swerving into the middle of the two lane road to avoid the knee-deep puddles forming around sewer grates. "The idea of a Malay, born Mahometan, being reared in the Vatican, hit me as funny. For in life there is but one hour: an epic or an idyll: all other hours lead up to and down from it. Indeed, almost insensibly Ann Veronica became habituated to the peculiar appearance and the peculiar manners of the people “in the van. It had thrust her back with an undignified scuffle, with vulgar comedy, with an unendurable, scornful grin.
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