” “Where?” He asked. Wood. “I think,” she said, “that I rather like what you have said. One only. She waited a few minutes, then greeted the burly doorman who stood as the building’s lone sentry. ’ *** The tapping for which Melusine had been waiting came at last. . . She could not analyse what was stirring in her: the thought of losing the doll, the dog, and the cat. And through it all, like a golden thread on a piece of tapestry, weaving in and out of the patterns, the unspoken longing for love. But, after all, it will be different.
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