She withdrew her mouth and patted his penis dry with the bottom of his shirttails. Anna opened a cupboard and produced cups and saucers and a tin of coffee. . How she had coveted her mother’s beauty and sought to emulate it, if only to please her. That was the inconvenience of it; her head was swimming. ’ Melusine turned, an irrepressible giggle escaping her lips as she thought of the Mother Abbess in the convent at Blaye. “Quite right,” she said. She saw the moonlit waters, the black shadow of the proa, the moon-fire that ran down the far edge of the bellying sail, the silent natives: no sound except the slapping of the outrigger and the low sibilant murmur of water falling away from the sides—and the beating of her heart.
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