She had only to get through this, to solace Manning as much as she could, to put such clumsy plasterings on his wounds as were possible, and then, anyhow, she would be free—free to put her fate to the test. Seventeen hours, sixteen hours. “It may be her salvation. ‘Civilian peace-keeping forces, you know. And when you reflect how much at heart your poor mother, whose loss we must ever deplore, had our union, you will, I am persuaded, no longer refuse me. ’ ‘Certainly he is not a friend,’ Melusine agreed, ‘but he has gone, after all. You don’t want to look like Bozo. I saw them both.
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