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” “I don’t see why I shouldn’t. She was enchanted by the beauty of the other girls, who were magically transformed into fairies and elves by makeup into seemingly unfamiliar yet glamorous new people. That’s my opinion, if you ask me. ‘She would say, espéce de diable, this Melusine. The love-songs of all the ages were singing in her blood, the scent of night stock from the garden filled the air, and the moths that beat upon the closed frames of the window next the lamp set her mind dreaming of kisses in the dusk. This foster child’s name was Mary Lucia Iovelli, and we have photographic documents of a woman who looks exactly like you, dear. And tell Pottiswick to mend that lock we broke. "Go to the pump, Nab," he said, when this was done, "and fill a pail with water. Once a thriving town before the Pestilence, most of the buildings and the piers had been destroyed or burned.
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