I bear the marks of some of them about me still," he continued, taking off his wig, and laying bare a bald skull, covered with cicatrices and plates of silver. He kept at it even on those nights when the monsoon began to break with heavy storms and he had to weight down with stones everything on his table. Then he sat down again in a chair and said that people who wrote novels ought to be strung up. ’ ‘Was it yours?’ Insulted beyond bearing, Melusine lost her temper. He seemed to have shrunken in his seat. It was a hoax, it was the only thing possible, until she heard Cathy say, “Let me hold those for you. 175 “Before you tell me the whole story,” she emphasized the penultimate word, “just let me do something for you. You are going to be generous and forgive.
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