Loving was self-forgetfulness, pure delighting in another human being. A dozen books lay upon the counterpane. He had never wanted daughters. Manning told her he loved beauty, and extorted a similar admission from her; he then expatiated upon his own love of beauty. ’ Melusine’s eyes flashed. I’ll announce myself. Mr. ’ ‘Truly?’ asked Melusine, warmth lighting her bosom. ‘It is, you understand, that Monsieur Charvill did not—how do you say in English?—having an eye to an eye—’ ‘Didn’t see eye to eye with the Vicomte Valade? That I can well believe. The drunken beachcombers; the one-sided education; the utter loneliness of a white child without playfellows, human or animal, without fairy stories, who for days was left alone while the father visited neighbouring islands, these pictures sank far below their actual importance.
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