“It’s the spring,” he said. Thames unfolded the drawing, smoothed out its creases, and beheld a portrait of himself. “Katy Pfister. . He had known she would be shocked, but he was equally certain Melusine would have refused to see her grandfather had she been forewarned. 277 “I was beginning to think that I would never see you again, Lucy. I have very few friends in Paris. He regarded that perennial miracle of pinning with wrathful eyes. He righted a chair and sat in it, his face in his hands. He had a quick, shrewd, merry eye, and a look in which duplicity was agreeably veiled by good humour.
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