From suburbs, from country towns—everywhere. 126 Lucy drank them as the first rays of watery sunlight seeped through the mullioned windows, then put their husks in the claw-footed bathtub. He had reacted by laughing at her, informing her coolly that she was naïve in many things. ‘Pardon, mademoiselle, but perhaps your father went to England, after all, and —’ ‘My father went to Italy,’ interrupted Melusine, her heart tightening with the familiar sensation of loss. In the evening, a band of village musicians, accompanied by most of the young inhabitants of Willesden, strolled out to Dollis Hill, where they formed a rustic concert under the great elm before the door. It rained heavily all day, so he did not stir forth.
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