” “Two years ago,” she answered. ’ ‘Oh, peste,’ exclaimed Melusine crossly. He was nearly wincing. Either it was an unfortunate recovery of a trail, or he had followed her from Mayfair. He became angry. She pulled down her veil and made her way to the door. If I could but——” To escape from her thoughts she began to undress, humming a light tune to herself, though her eyes were hot with unshed tears, and the sobs kept rising in her throat. She was vehemently impatient—she did not clearly know for what—to do, to be, to experience. So appalling was the sight, that even the murderers—familiar as they were with scenes of slaughter,—looked aghast at it. ‘Well, I can see you won’t let it alone, so what do you propose to do about the wench?’ ‘I’ll die before I let it alone,’ Gerald vowed. But that was soon put right, and she walked out into London with a peculiar exaltation of mind, an exaltation that partook of panic and defiance, but was chiefly a sense of vast unexampled release. So I undertook to protect her by keeping love out of her life, by crushing it whenever it appeared, obliterating it. " "I wish I could, Joan," returned the carpenter, sadly. No means were neglected to accomplish this end.
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