” “We should go back. There were no doors in the bungalow; instead, there were curtains of strung bead and bamboo, always tinkling mysteriously. ” “In Paris, I think,” Ennison answered. ‘Eh bien?’ ‘You are perfectly right, Melusine. We two just love each other—the real, identical other—all the time. ” “WHAT?” said Ann Veronica, startled. So says your capitaine. Could she understand what she was talking about? Luckily it was a second-class carriage and the ordinary fellowtravellers were not there.
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