The effort of self-repression cost him a sob. Or he would find something—a wave in her hair, a little line in the contour of her brow or neck, that made an exquisite discovery. Go in, go in, Melusine prayed, hoping desperately that he would not change his mind and take another route. He hugged her when he saw her in the hallway. It was a beautiful place that she had found, a round cave by a small stream. ‘You are Mrs Ibstock, I think,’ she said eagerly. Presently she was going through a swaying, noisy crowd, whose faces grinned and stared pitilessly in the light of the electric standards. All her tender lures, inherent and acquired, had shattered themselves futilely against the reserve he had set between them. “I have loved you,” he was saying, “ever since you sat on that gate and talked. The splendid voices sang on from phase to phase of love’s unfolding, the ship drove across the sea to the beating rhythm of the rowers. She was the social leader of Morningside Park, and in her superficial and euphuistic way an extremely kind and pleasant woman. Ramage,” she said, clinging to her one point, “I want to get out of this horrible little room. “I mean REALLY independent. On coming to himself, he found he had been wrapped in a blanket and put to bed with a couple of hot bricks to his feet. But some little distance behind him, someone had come out from the shadow of the building and, seeing the Frenchman reappear, darted back again as quickly.
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