‘They weren’t no soldiers. She was very excited. ‘Bête!’ Gerald caught her hand as she pulled it back to deliver another blow. ‘Melusine. ” Lucy coolly marveled as she studied the girl’s face, belly swollen from pregnancy. Ann Veronica found herself incompetent, undignified, and detestable, holding on desperately to a hardening antagonism to her father, quarrelling with him, wrangling with him, thinking of repartees—almost as if he was a brother. And if he didn’t, what was the good of seeing him? “I wish he was a woman,” she said, “then I could make him my friend.
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