She read voraciously, and presently, because of her aunt’s censorship, she took to smuggling any books she thought might be prohibited instead of bringing them home openly, and she went to the theatre whenever she could produce an acceptable friend to accompany her. ‘To find what?’ demanded Gerald. “Ye Gods!” she said at last. ‘Why have you come in here?’ demanded Melusine, turning on him. She said you HAD some money. ‘Thank you,’ she said, leaning heavily on his arm for a moment. Only au revoir. Sheppard, distractedly. One’s got to be a better man than one’s father, or what is the good of successive generations? Life is rebellion, or nothing.
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