. A crisis had been reached, and she was almost glad it had been reached. She loved for him to regale her with the stories of his past, the days of ancient Greece. He was helpful, but gravely dubious. Voilà tout, as Melusine herself would say. “I might have muddled for a time. I have but to give a hint of that boy's existence in the proper quarter, and his life will not be worth a day's purchase. She longed to own something lasting, anything, but knew her wishes to be stupid. She went to a dramatic agent, and he turned out to be the one who had heard me sing in Paris.
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