It might as well be Melusine herself. " "From whom?" vociferated Trenchard. . I have had my day; and there were women in it. To make Ruth pay for it! He wanted to get away, into some immense echoless tract where he could give vent to this wild laughter which tore at his vitals. “Why not?” He repeated, demanding. What in the world was the wench up to now? For it must be she. She was always breaking rules, whispering asides, intimating signals. You see, I have had to look after myself so long that I have developed a terrible bump of independence. ” “I understand,” he said, doggedly. The windows were still darkened—perhaps she was not home yet. He smothered it down with such a good will that the reaction set his heart to pounding. ‘But that is excessively unkind of you, Melusine. He could have easily forced it, but preferred a more expeditious mode of reaching the roof which suggested itself to him.
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