He turned his back on that temptation. He was no longer in military uniform, and it was evident from his suit of brown brocade that he had been disturbed while preparing for an evening engagement. Inexplicably there flashed into vision the Chinese wedding procession in the narrow, twisted streets of the city, that first day: the gorgeous palanquin, the tomtoms, the weird music, the ribald, jeering mob that trailed along behind. But she no longer obsessed over heresy, no longer did she feel cursed by God. She had thought—What had she thought? That this dependence of women was but an illusion which needed only to be denied to vanish. Brown engaged in the usual browbeating and complaining he reserved for sections who came in late and soloists who left tempo behind like the leftovers of a Sunday picnic. His fatigue was tacitly understood within the family; it was a phenomenon which everyone acknowledged as related to the trades. ’ Melusine heard a note of triumph in his voice and turned, a questioning look in her face.
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