’ Gerald came into the room as he spoke, his eyes on the stormclouds rapidly gathering in Melusine’s face. Soot was everywhere, for the lamp would not stay trimmed in the gale. She tried to imagine the collective effect of the Fadden Ball; she had never seen a fancy-dress gathering in her life. A bobbing lantern, crossing the bridge—for she had not drawn the curtain—attracted her attention. One learns to sit up. ’ ‘Grateful? Certainly I am grateful,’ Melusine snapped, knowing full well she sounded anything but gratified. It was, in a way, something of a joke to the doctor: psychology and physiognomy on an island which white folks did not visit more than three or four times a year, only then when they had to.
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