She released her clutch on it as, dizzy with exhaustion, she leaned against the back of the pew and closed her eyes, her fingers grasping out automatically for support. “Why—it’s—it’s you!” Amazement seemed to dry up the torrents of his speech. But it was not so ordered. ‘Marry an Englishman! Which Englishman?’ Melusine shrugged. ’ She bestowed a dazzling smile on Roding, who had reddened to the gills at these words. ’ ‘Hélas, poor you,’ Melusine rejoined sarcastically. ‘Tell me, my boy. " "I see. Lucy felt herself go very red in the cheeks and lowered her hand rather slowly. "Your son," answered the boy. .
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