’ Mrs Prudence Sindlesham, a widow of several years’ standing, so she told Gerald, was a scarecrow of a female, long and lank of limb in a figure that had once been willowy. She addressed him in a tone of puzzlement. Wearied at length with thinking on the past, and terrified by the prospect of the future, he threw himself on the straw with which the cage was littered, and endeavoured to compose himself to slumber. ’ Impatience overtook Melusine’s resolve momentarily. Besides, I acted for others, and not for myself. Her mind turned to her own future, the endless trickle of years.
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