A curious silence ensued. You may perceive harmony, proportion, rhythm, intensely. Madame Valade was looking heartily bored, he noted, as his searching eyes found out the couple. She stole the opportunity to peer at his departing figure from the closed curtains of the front room window, his shoulders slumped forward, his posture and his ego slightly deflated. ‘It does not matter to me if he comes or no, madame. ’ ‘But you say that I was born here,’ objected Melusine. And thus it was that she came upon a book of Stevenson's verse—her first adventure into poetry.
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