192 Her skirt had ridden almost to her hips. “So how about this Friday?” He asked. She was sitting on the mean straw mattress that was placed on the iron bedstead in the makeshift cell, while Melusine stood with her back to the door, confronting her old nurse with the truth. There was something holding women down, holding women back, and if it wasn’t exactly man-made law, man-made law was an aspect of it. Gerald watched her vanish into the darkness, unusually incensed. “Sufficient unto me is the change thereof,” he said, with all the effect of an epigram. “Think of that check you endorsed.
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