“Could you play ‘Fiddler on the Roof’?” father Thomas pleaded. ‘Now then, missie, where do you think you’re going?’ ‘I must see Jacques only for one little minute,’ Melusine told him prettily, fluttering her lashes. His face changed and she saw, with a stab at her heart, the dawning of irritation in his eyes. ‘You said it. She meant to go, she meant to go, she meant to go. He carried her into his bedroom as she unfastened the tiny white buttons of his shirt. ‘Melusine.
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