Melusine grasped the hilt of the sword she had been carefully holding, and came out into the light. “Diedermayer’s a kiss-ass. 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. She sought hastily in her mind for a plausible answer to an obvious question that didn’t come. She could almost smell her mother’s attar of white roses and lemon verbena with the memory of the story. Besides those who conducted themselves more peaceably, the conductors of the procession noticed with considerable uneasiness, large bands of men armed with staves, bludgeons, and other weapons, who were flying across the field in the same direction.
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