“I have not quarrelled with her. Any financial return was inconsiderable against the promise of this psychological treat. ’ Melusine shrugged, and crossed to the plain door beside which hung a bell. Why not? Were not his own sentiments inclined in favour of the patient? But fifty gold was fifty gold. She also knew that he was the type who would not make a single physical overture until she pushed the correct buttons. Yet the smoke was curling upwards in a faint innocent-looking cloud to the ceiling. The beach: to get there as quickly as he could, to reach the white man's nadir of abasement and gather the promise of that soothing indifference which comes with the final disintegration of the fibres of conscience.
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